


Broken Winged Birds

by raiseyourpinky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angels are Dicks, Blood and Violence, Castiel Acts Like Endverse Castiel, Chuck Shurley/Kevin Tran - Freeform, Cook Castiel (Supernatural), Drug Use, F/F, F/M, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Mechanic Dean, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, Post-Apocalypse, Road Trips, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 59,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiseyourpinky/pseuds/raiseyourpinky
Summary: Married life is hard for Dean and Castiel. They fight constantly because Castiel is a shut-in who's high all the time, and Dean argues simply to get a reaction out of him. This leads to a separation, and then counseling, which is totally unpleasant for both of them. Just when they thought life couldn't get harder, they realize it's the end of the world as they know it.Angels have descended to earth to rid the world of sinners, and their judgment is a bit flawed, to say the least. It seems that the only way to fight back is by uniting forces with a devil and a demon, or two. And if that doesn't work, well maybe they'll just have to join the dickhead angels.





	1. Marriage and Counseling

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't set in the show's supernatural universe. I wanted to create a different world with angels and demons. You may find some similarities, but I tried to build something new. It's been a long work in progress, so feedback is highly appreciated.
> 
> I have a small [playlist on Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLcZ86-o45cfRc5Mwe4Dn7RSl4NAgqyAoI) if you want to listen to it.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

 

 

_"Hold fast to dreams_

_For if dreams die_

_Life is a broken-winged bird_

_That cannot fly._

 

_Hold fast to dreams_

_For when dreams go_

_Life is a barren field_

_Frozen with snow."_

 

-Langston Hughes

 

The living room window was open, letting in a cool breeze. Castiel had forgotten to close it again and he’d fallen asleep on the recliner watching _How to Get Away with Murder_. That was why Dean was yelling at him right now.

Castiel fixated on Dean’s biceps as he flexed his arms in outrage. Dean was wearing a plaid flannel shirt over a greasy white shirt. His hands were calloused and stained, even though he washed them meticulously. He was going on about Castiel’s behavior and how he was sick and tired of coming home after a long day of work to find Castiel passed out, with the window wide open and the air conditioning turned on.

Dean was really fond of his own voice.

Castiel had learned to block out Dean a while back. When their more serious arguments had first started, Castiel used to argue back. The two of them would scream at each other until one of them shoved the other, and they’d end up having angry sex for hours to release the tension.

But that was months ago.

Now, all Castiel did when Dean yelled at him was stare at the wall behind him. The pale salmon color in the living room was an eye sore. Dean had picked out the color, but they had painted it together.

Two years ago, they’d gotten married and moved into this big house, happy and in love.

Now, Castiel found it difficult to remember the way he’d felt before. He remembered the times when he and Dean would cook together, drive on long country roads and pull up at the side of the road to make out like teenagers; when they’d hike for hours until their feet were sore, and camp under the stars until they were attacked by nature. Castiel remembered everything, but he couldn’t remember the _feelings_ that had lived inside him for so long, so deeply. He wondered if Dean remembered them.

“Are you listening to me?” Dean asked. There was something comical about Dean’s furrowed eyebrows. It was almost like he was trying to look even angrier.

“What?” Castiel said, finally looking at him.

Dean slumped his shoulders and dug his fingers in his hair. They’d been here before. This was just like every other one of their arguments. Except, they’d never learned to end an argument.

When Dean looked up again, he looked defeated. “Cas,” Dean said quietly, crouching down to be at the same level as Castiel, who remained sitting on the recliner. “I want you to go.”

It took a moment for the words to really sink in. Castiel was a little high, and his mind was still trying to process the numbness he felt. That was a recent feeling. The numbness.

“Go where?”

“Anywhere,” Dean said, sighing. After scanning Castiel’s face, Dean shook his head. “You’re not even with me right now. You’re not part of this conversation. Why do I even bother? Just get the hell out of my house. Now, Cas.”

Castiel was on his feet, tilting his head. “You’re kicking me out? Why?”

Dean scoffed. In one swift motion, Dean turned his back to Castiel, heading for the hallway closet. There was a lot of digging around before Dean pulled out an old suitcase, one they’d used on their last trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras.

“Because I won’t wait until we hate each other,” Dean said, tossing the suitcase at Castiel, who caught it reflectively. “More than we already do, I mean.”

“I don’t hate you, Dean.”

“Let’s keep it that way.” Dean crossed his arms. “Pack your bags and go. I need some breathing room.”

Castiel stood there, gripping the suitcase in his arms, watching as Dean grabbed a beer, opened it, and chugged half the bottle in one go. Dean avoided eye contact as he headed to their bedroom in silence, stepping off of his work boots.

There was no turning back now.

 

 

It didn’t take long to fill up the suitcase. Castiel only packed the most essential items—his clothes, shoes, toiletries, pot, and a few Stephen King mass paperbacks. As he packed, he made a mental list of his closest friends and family. Most of Castiel’s friends were Dean’s friends who’d been forced to befriend Castiel when they’d started dating, so he wasn’t sure where he stood with them. Although Charlie wouldn’t deny him, Castiel wouldn’t take her from Dean. He knew her first, so technically he called dibs. Castiel only had one sister, Anna, but she lived in New York. His father was dead, had been dead for months, and his mom was somewhere in Asia, living the life she never could when she was young and married.

Castiel wanted to hate Dean for putting him in this uncomfortable situation. He wanted to hate Dean for letting him feel miserable for so long and doing nothing but scream at him all the time. He wanted to blame Dean for the way Castiel felt, or didn’t feel. But Castiel realized that with the numbness that had invaded him, he was incapable of feeling hate, too. Maybe it was better that way. Less melodrama.

They were both in their bedroom. Dean lay on the bed, watching _Bates Motel_ on Netflix. They used to watch that together, but then Castiel lost interest and Dean kept going.

Without taking his eyes off of the TV, Dean broke the silence. “Maybe we can talk in a few days.” Dean sipped his beer. Nervously, he peeled off the label off of the bottle. “I’ll give you a call, once we cool off.”

“Okay.” Castiel packed his last pair of socks and closed the suitcase.

“We can try counseling,” Dean said softly, and his eyes flicked from the TV to Castiel.

Counseling. Sure. Because Dean was such a firm believer in counseling. Dean, who refused to see a counselor after his parents died in a house fire when he was eight years old. Dean, who raised his brother alongside his godfather and made it sound perfectly natural. Dean, who refused to accept anyone’s help. That Dean wanted to try counseling. It occurred to Castiel that maybe things between them were truly irreparable if it pushed Dean to even consider counseling.

“Of course,” Castiel said, lifting the suitcase off the bed. He was forced to carry it since this suitcase didn’t come with little wheels.

On his way out, Castiel set down his suitcase on the living room floor and went to shut the window. His eyes fell on the big wedding picture on the wall above the entertainment center. Dean and Castiel had both opted for wearing white suits, and they were clinking their champagne glasses, smiling at each other with nothing short of adoration in their eyes. Castiel remembered that as well. It was the happiest day of his life. Well, it _had_ been.

“Bye, Dean,” Castiel muttered.

 

 

The phone call to his ex-coworker had been awkward, but it was nothing compared to this moment.

Castiel stood outside of Chuck’s apartment, his suitcase at his feet, while a variety of thuds came from inside the apartment leading up to Chuck answering the door. Chuck was in a bathrobe, and he had a piece of salami stuck to his hair. Castiel got the feeling that Chuck rarely had any guests over.

“Hey, Cas, sorry I took so long to open the door,” Chuck said, shifting on his bare feet. “I got home from work late, took a long bath, and fell asleep in the bathtub. I was still in there when you called. Then I started cleaning up the house, but I smelled something funny coming from the fridge, so I opened it and found so many moldy leftovers from weeks ago, so I decided to clean the fridge. Long story short, my house is a bigger mess than it was before. I’m really sorry about that.”

Castiel shook his head. “It’s no bother. I’m just grateful you had space for me in your home.”

“Oh, yeah, no, absolutely. Come on in, Cas.” Chuck stepped aside.

Castiel dragged his suitcase inside before he took the first step. The apartment was in worse shape than he’d imagined. There was food covering the dinner table, kitchen counters, and part of the kitchen floor. In the small living room, the couch was cushion-less and facing the wall, and the cushions were scattered on the floor. And apparently even the coffee table was full of the contents of the fridge that Chuck was sorting through.

“How can I help?” Castiel asked, turning to Chuck.

“No, no, you don’t have to help me with this. It’s my mess. You just make yourself at home.”

Castiel looked at Chuck. “If this is my home, I feel responsible for cleaning it up. Please let me.” It was the least he could do. Chuck didn’t have to open up his home for Castiel.

Chuck sighed, surveying the mess. “I guess it would be faster that way. Alright, buddy, help me throw out all the stuff that’s gone bad.”

“Sure,” Castiel said, stepping over the mess, careful not to step on any of the food. He could possibly be eating this in the future.

A couple hours later, Chuck’s apartment was spotless. Well, Castiel hadn’t seen the bedroom or bathroom yet, but at least the living room and kitchen were spotless.

As a reward for their hard work, Chuck poured two glasses of wine and they sat at the table to drink it.

“How’s the diner?” Castiel asked, sipping his wine.

Chuck shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. “The usual. Ellen likes to keep adding to the menu every time she comes up with a new dish, and we all have to learn it by the end of the day. And Jo’s pretty demanding with the cooking time. She says we waste too much time by talking to each other. Apparently socializing reduces productivity.”

Castiel smiled fondly. The only good thing about working at the Roadhouse had been Ellen and Jo. They’d always kept him on his toes and made sure he didn’t slack off. Castiel had always intended to return to work, but the intention had never amounted to anything. How long had it been since he took a leave of absence from work? Three, four months? Was that before or after the numbness took over?

“I thought you were coming back to the diner,” Chuck said. “We haven’t had a cook as good as you. Ellen has hired other people, but I can’t work well with them. They don’t last long. The new guy is cool, though. But I don’t know, maybe I was just waiting for you to come back.”

Castiel put down his glass of wine. “I thought I would come back. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“Shit happens, right?”

Castiel rubbed his hands on his face. “I don’t know what’s happening anymore. Sometimes it’s like I’m seeing my life play out and I’m not really there. I don’t feel like myself lately. Look at me. My husband kicked me out, and I’m all alone, but I have no plans in life. I have no motivation. I just feel…nothing.”

“I’ve felt that way before,” Chuck said, sipping his wine. “It’s like you lost your purpose, but you’re waiting for a big epiphany to guide you on your next stage in life.”

“Did you ever get that epiphany?”

Chuck smiled coyly, shaking his head. “No, but I’m still waiting for it. In the meantime, I’m doing my best. I’m the head cook at a nice diner. I live modestly, and sometimes I wish I wasn’t perpetually single, but mostly I’m alright. I think you will be too, Cas.”

Castiel finished the rest of his wine. “I’m going to need a refill.”

Chuck laughed, filling his cup again. “Don’t worry. Your marriage isn’t over until the divorce papers are signed and filed. And even then, you can re-marry.”

Castiel wrinkled his nose. “Thank you for bringing up the divorce part. I was trying hard not to think about it.”

“Dean didn’t mention getting a divorce, did he?”

“No.” Castiel sipped his wine. “Not yet.”

Their divorce was the next step. Castiel wasn’t entirely in denial. But he wouldn’t think about it until he absolutely had to.

 

*******

 

Against his better judgment, Dean called Charlie right after Castiel left. Dean hated involving third parties into his marriage problems, but he also needed his best friend to alleviate the hollow in his chest.

“I’m coming over,” Charlie said.

“No, no, you really don’t have to. I’m fine—”

“Already in my car.”

Charlie arrived not fifteen minutes later, pulling Dean into a warm hug as soon as he opened the door. Dean sunk into her arms, feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on his shoulders.

Charlie pulled away and looked at him for a moment. “You hungry?”

“No.”

“Margaritas then.”

Dean let Charlie pull him to the kitchen island, propping him up on a high stool while she pulled out the ingredients and tools for the margaritas. Charlie whistled as she worked, occasionally smiling up at Dean, but she didn’t pry for any details about what had happened. That was why Dean loved her so much. And damn, it was a good trick, because Dean suddenly wanted to share everything.

“Cas and I are never on the same page anymore,” Dean said, digging hands into his hair. “We argue every single day. I can’t remember the last time we just had a normal conversation. But I didn’t _have_ to kick him out. I should have been the one to leave. I’ve been worried sick since he left because I don’t know where he went. His mom’s always traveling, his sister's in New York, and he doesn’t have any other living relatives. Shit, what if he went to your place?”

Charlie sighed, pausing what she was doing to look at Dean again. “You did what you felt was right at the time. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I don’t think Cas went to my place or he would have called me. The guy never shows up anywhere unannounced. If it makes you feel better, I can text him and see if he’s doing okay.”

“Would you?”

Charlie nodded, already pulling out her phone. She left her phone on the island while she continued making the drinks. “Dean, he’ll text back even if you’re not staring at my phone without blinking.”

Dean sat up straighter. “Sorry. It’s just been a few minutes.”

As if on cue, Charlie’s phone chimed. She held up a hand as she picked the phone up with the other, and then she quirked her lips. “He’s good, and safe, and asked me not to worry.”

Dean nodded, swallowing the big knot in his throat. The pressure in his shoulders lifted slightly. He could breathe a little better. Just a little.

“He never wanted to leave the house the past few months,” Dean said, staring at his lap. “I kicked him out of the only place he felt safe. I fucked up, Charlie.”

Charlie placed a full margarita glass with salt on the rim in front of him. “All your woes are better with alcohol.”

Dean took a sip, and it was as good as he’d hoped. So he took another sip. “Do you think he thinks I stopped loving him? That could never happen. He’s Cas. He’s…he’s my Cas.”

Charlie rounded the island and went over to squish Dean into another hug. “Cas knows you love him because he loves you just as much. Just give it some time. When he comes back, talk to him. Sit down and have a real conversation, without arguments, without getting angry, just talk. That’s the first step in solving any problem.”

“How’d you get to be so smart, Charlie?”

“I was born that way, _obviously_.” Charlie ruffled Dean’s hair before she moved them over to the couch. “How about some _Game of Thrones_ to cheer you up? Nothing better than Daenerys to put a smile on your face.”

“And Jon Snow,” Dean said, kicking up his feet and taking another sip of his drink.

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Tyrion Lannister all the way, baby.”

Dean smiled, looking from Charlie to the TV.

 

 

The house was eerily quiet in the morning. Dean never thought he’d feel trapped inside such a big house. It was two stories, but nobody slept on the second floor. They had two guest rooms, but only Sam and Jess used those whenever they visited. Maybe it had been a mistake buying such a big house just for them.

No, it hadn’t been a mistake back then. They’d wanted kids. Three of them. They’d wanted many things.

Dean heaved a sigh as he got ready for work. His eyelids were heavy from exhaustion. It had been impossible to sleep the night before. Dean had gotten used to the familiar weight on the left side of his king size bed. He’d gotten so used to Castiel’s presence, even when all he did was sleep, smoke, eat, and watch TV. Even when all they did was fight. Now all Dean had left was Castiel’s lingering scent. His stupid aftershave had a strong smell and it had invaded every space in the house.

Dean skipped a real breakfast and instead grabbed a banana as he hurried out the door. It was startling for a second, not seeing Castiel’s old green pickup on the driveway. It was always there, day and night, and now suddenly, it was gone. Dean would have to get used to this, for however long. God, it was too early in the morning to dwell on this.

After peeling his banana, Dean unlocked his Impala and climbed in. The leather scent dissolved whatever smell Castiel had left behind in the house, and Dean took a deep breath. Before driving away, he checked his phone for any missed calls or messages. Nothing. As always, Castiel was completely oblivious to the world.

Bobby’s auto shop was closed when Dean arrived. It wasn’t even 7 a.m. yet. Dean was so out of it he didn’t even checked the time when he left the house. Seeing as he had an hour to kill, Dean looked up marriage counselors online. There were quite a few in the Denton area. He looked up reviews for all of the counselors he found, but he still wasn’t set on anyone.

Who would have thought that Dean and Castiel would ever even need a marriage counselor? When Dean got married, he was deeply in love, and he was sure it was smooth sailing from then on, with a few bumps here and there. They’d lived through some rough times already. When Sam’s wife, Jess, had a miscarriage last year, Castiel had been there for them during the weeks following. He’d cooked them every meal and kept both of them company until they healed. That had been before Sam moved away. And then six months ago, Castiel’s father passed away, and Dean had been there for him, and they’d flown to New York for the funeral.

A couple months after that, Castiel changed.

It wasn’t a drastic change. Nothing too concerning at first. Castiel went back to work right after coming home from the funeral. He worked overtime most days and he was rarely home. Sometimes it was easier to spend time with Castiel if Dean went to see him at the Roadhouse. Then he started smoking pot. Again, not a big deal at first. Castiel and Dean used to smoke every so often, but never alone. Castiel took to smoking every single night when he came home. Dean figured the long shifts were getting to him, so he let it side.

But it didn’t end there. Slowly, Castiel stopped leaving the house for any other reason except work. Dean had to cancel many of their plans, until eventually he started going out alone. Dean tried getting Castiel to talk to him, to trust him with whatever was causing this change, but Castiel had stopped listening somewhere around that time. One moment, Castiel was a sweet, attentive, loving husband, and the next, he was a brick wall, cold and insensitive.

Castiel had left his job three and a half months ago, and he never went back. He didn’t give a reason, just said he had to leave. And Dean didn’t pry, didn’t pressure him to return to work; he was patient and kind, as much as he could be. But there were days when his frustration got the better of him, and he yelled just to release all his anger. At first, they’d ended up fixing things with sex, as unhealthy as that was, but then Castiel stopped fighting back. And Dean didn’t know what to do. All his efforts were futile, and he was tired. Dean was tired of fighting against an invisible opponent.

The last thing Dean wanted was to go to a stranger with their problems, but after Sam suggested seeing a counselor, Dean couldn’t shake off the idea. Dean had to give it a shot. It was that or nothing, and Dean couldn’t take the “nothing” option anymore.

 

 

Bobby joined Dean in the break room for lunch. They sat apart from each other, neither of them saying anything, but the silence was comfortable. Dean had gone to buy a burger, but he took one bite and felt sick. Now he was just picking at it.

“What’s the matter with you, boy?” Bobby asked, narrowing his eyes. Although Dean had tried many times before, it was impossible to keep anything from Bobby. The man raised him and Sam, after all. He knew them both too well.

Dean stared at his burger. “Cas moved out.” _I made him leave_.

A beat of silence.

“For good?”

“No,” Dean said. “I don’t want that.” The thought of Castiel never coming back had never occurred to him before, but it was enough to leave him breathless.

Bobby was out of his seat and he shuffled behind Dean, grabbing a beer from the fridge and placing it in front of him. “All marriages go through rough patches.”

Dean swallowed, gripping the cold beer in his hands, enjoying the sensation of the condensation on it. “I know.”

“That boy loves you,” Bobby said, and it hurt how desperate Dean was for the reassurance, even if it came from someone outside his marriage. “When there’s love, everything else comes second.”

“I hope so, Bobby,” Dean said, licking his lips. He savored the beer before he took a big gulp from it. “We’re trying counseling.”

“That’s good, son.” Bobby squeezed Dean’s shoulder.

Dean pushed his uneaten burger away. “Thanks for the beer. I think I’ll head home early today, if that’s okay. I gotta clean out the garage. We might need the storage space.”

Bobby nodded. “Get some rest. It’ll do you good.”

“I’ll try.”

“Call that ungrateful brother of yours, too,” Bobby said. “Never comes around anymore since he got that fancy job in Houston.”

“He’s not that far away.”

“Tell him that next time he complains about driving up to visit,” Bobby grunted.

Dean smiled warmly. After the death of his parents when he was eight, Bobby took him and Sammy under his wing. Sammy was only four at the time, and Dean felt a sudden urge to protect him at all cost. They had both been young and scared and miserable, but Bobby had given them a home again. Dean owed so much to him, but it was difficult to express his gratitude verbally. Words were complicated. Sometimes it was easier to show how he felt. So, Dean threw away his half-eaten lunch, grabbed his keys, and gave Bobby a tight hug.

“Take care, son.”

“You, too, Bobby.”

 

*******

 

When Castiel woke up, the darkness of the morning confused him. It was strange for a moment because the ceiling was pale white instead of light blue, and his king size memory foam mattress had been replaced by a stiff upholstery couch. As his eyes adjusted to the new environment, Castiel remembered the events of the previous day.

And oh, there it was, an enormous headache. Probably due to the bottle of wine he’d finished with Chuck, or the beers he’d snuck long after Chuck had gone to bed, or the fact that he kept waking up every thirty minutes, reaching out for Dean in the darkness, and then sobbing quietly when he realized he wasn’t there.

Fuck, he was pathetic. At least today he didn’t feel so numb.

Castiel stumbled into the bathroom where he took care of his morning business, showered, and got dressed in the few clothes he’d packed that didn’t stink. He ran a hand through his tangled hair, not bothering to do anything about the way it wouldn’t stay down.

On his way to the living room, Castiel saw Chuck’s bedroom door slightly open. He wasn’t going to invade his friend’s privacy, but he wanted to see if Chuck was in his room or not. Fortunately, Castiel didn’t need to sneak a peek inside because he heard Chuck’s uneven snoring. He debated whether or not to leave a note so Chuck wouldn’t worry about Castiel’s whereabouts when he woke up, but thought better of it. They weren’t roommates, not officially. And mostly, Castiel wished this wouldn’t be permanent.

Once Castiel was behind the wheel of his truck, he checked the time on his phone. It was 8:16 a.m., which meant that he’d hardly slept three hours. No wonder his eyelids felt like stones.

It was probably an obvious cry for help, but Castiel decided to drive to his old job. Granted, the Roadhouse had never been just a job for him. Ellen and Jo were like family. Working at the Roadhouse had been one of the best aspects of his life at one point. But the last time he’d stepped foot inside the diner was the last time he worked there.

Despite the early hours, the Roadhouse was lively when Castiel walked inside. Most of the tables were occupied by loud customers, too energetic for the time of day. The smell of coffee was so strong that Castiel almost reawakened by its presence. There were a few open spaces at the counter, so Castiel took an empty chair and curled into himself. He’d caught sight of Jo and Ash waiting the tables, but they were so busy they hadn’t noticed him. Yet.

After a moment of staring at the menu without really looking at it, Castiel jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Any reason you’re avoiding me?” Jo asked, turning him around. Her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she shot him a warm smile. “I saw you the moment you pulled up in that ugly green truck. You can’t hide. How are you, stranger?”

Castiel smiled back because he was honestly relieved to see his old friend again. It had been far too long, and he’d avoided most of her phone calls for which he’d constantly felt guilty. But now that he was here, it was as though no time had passed.

“Jo, I missed you.” Castiel drew her in his arms, something which he’d rarely done in the past, but felt necessary at the moment. He hugged her a little too long, and when he pulled away, he realized his eyes were full of tears. He willed them back inside.

“I missed you too, Cas,” Jo said, studying his face. “What’s the matter? Dean stopped by last week to let us know you were doing better. Was he lying?”

“No, no, I’m sure he wasn’t,” Castiel said quickly. There were ups and downs, that’s how it usually went with him.

“Alright,” Jo said, furrowing her eyebrows. “Well, if you’re here, you might as well eat something. What can I get you?”

Castiel blinked, trying to remember the menu he had memorized for years but couldn’t come up with anything specific. “Eggs?”

“You want coffee with that?”

“Yes, please.”

Jo smiled again, clapping Castiel’s shoulder. “Hang in there, Cas. It’s only Thurday.”

“Right.” Castiel made a mental note of the day of the week it was, just to keep himself grounded. _It’s Thursday, March 3 rd, 8:44 a.m_.

After Jo left, Castiel had nothing better to do with his time than check his phone. There weren’t any messages or missed calls. Not that he’d expected to hear from Dean so soon, but he’d hoped to hear from Anna. Phone calls from his sister were irregular, but he hadn’t heard from her in over two weeks, and hearing her voice would be comforting now.

Castiel found Anna in his contacts and called her. The phone rang six times before it went to voicemail. _Hi, you’ve reached Anna Novak’s voicemail. If this is a client, please call my work number. If this is personal, leave me a message, and I will get back to you soon. Thank you._ Castiel sighed. Having a financial advisor as a sister was frustrating. Dean was the only person who understood his frustration because Sam was a criminal defense attorney, so getting in touch with him was even harder.

“Hello, Anna. It’s me. Just wanted to see how you were doing. I feel like we haven’t talked in months. It hasn’t been that long, though, has it? Do you ever feel like you’re running out of people to talk to? Does it ever feel that way to you? I hope not. Call me when you get this. I love you.”

A cup of coffee was placed in front of him. Ellen was glaring at him, clearly waiting for an explanation.

“Ellen,” Castiel said, swallowing hard. “Hey.”

Ellen pushed the containers for the cream and sugar closer, and then leaned forward. “You feeling okay?”

“Yes,” Castiel answered without thinking. He’d learned from experience that people never really wanted to hear otherwise.

Ellen stared at him for a long time, until eventually Castiel looked down at his coffee. “You want your old job back?”

“I, uh, don’t know.” Castiel faced her again. The prospect of returning to work was not the worst idea. It would distract him at least. But was he willing to push himself to get out of bed—Chuck’s couch—every day to come to work? He really had no other choice. He was running out of his savings, living with Chuck, and uncertain about his future with Dean. “Actually, yes, I think I’d like that.”

“Great. When can you start?” Ellen gave him a hint of a smile, but it was faint, as if he hadn’t earned a full one yet.

“Right away,” Castiel said. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do.

Ellen raised her eyebrows. “Alright, then. Finish your coffee and eat your breakfast. Then grab an apron and get in the back. We have lots of new dishes on the menu. I can’t wait for you to learn them.”

Castiel chuckled. This felt surreal. For months he’d been dreading the thought of ever returning to work. He’d been so stuck on what he’d learned, those memories that had clogged his mind, memories he’d repressed for so long, yet still found their way out. Now that he was here, he realized the fear and hesitation that had kept him away was shrinking.

“Yes, ma’am,” Castiel said, sipping his coffee.

Ash appeared with his eggs—scrambled with a side of hash browns, which were his favorite. Even when Castiel had trouble remembering his old self, his friends hadn’t forgotten.

 

 

It didn’t take long for Castiel to get readjusted to cooking for the Roadhouse. All the new dishes Ellen had added to the menu were flavorful and easy to prepare. By noon, Castiel was cooking up dishes one after the other, not getting a single wrong order. The other cook Ellen had hired, Kevin, was struggling to keep up. Castiel liked the kid because he made sure he did things right, even though he moved slow.

By the time Chuck went in to work at 2 p.m., Castiel had found his old rhythm in the kitchen. It was like riding a bike.

“Cas, what are you doing here?” Chuck asked, putting on his apron.

“I’m working,” Castiel said, grinning as he chopped up lettuce for a salad.

“Why?”

“Because I need a job,” Castiel said. “I’m not a freeloader.”

“I never thought you were.” Chuck went to stand beside him, arms crossed. “You okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking that? Yes, I’m perfectly fine. Actually, I was thinking about going home on my break—my home, not yours. I need to pick up my old uniforms and since Dean is at work right now, it’s the best time to get them. Do you mind covering for me while I go? I talked to Ellen already.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Chuck said, a slow smile spreading on his lips. “You know, I’m glad to see you back here again. You look…better.”

“I feel better,” Castiel said, sighing. After removing his apron and washing his hands, Castiel looked back at Chuck and Kevin. “I’ll be right back, you guys. Seriously, you won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Take your time,” Chuck said.

“I think we all know you’re frustratingly fast at everything,” Kevin said.

“Hey, show some respect,” Chuck said.

“No, thanks,” Kevin said.

“No fighting while I’m gone,” Castiel said, turning to leave. He rushed to his truck, turned on the radio, and sang along to the first pop song that started playing. Instead of trying to remember the last time he’d felt this giddy, he hit the gas.

 

*******

 

Dean made it home around 1 p.m. He felt tired despite having only worked half a shift. He knew his exhaustion was due to his lack of sleep, but that was something he would have to work on. As soon as he got home, he sat on the recliner in the living room. Castiel was the only person who ever used it, so maybe that’s why Dean gravitated to it now. He slumped down on it and got comfortable, ignoring the heavy stench of Castiel all over it—his deep scented aftershave with a hint of mint. Well, not so much ignoring it as closing his eyes and inhaling it deeply. If he pretended hard enough, he could feel him close again.

Dean fell asleep, remembering the soft touches from Castiel when they were in bed on cold nights, curled under their blanket, clinging to each other, pressing cold lips to cold necks.

 

 

The front door flew open and it woke Dean with a start. He removed his boot and blindly tossed it at the intruder.

“Ow, fuck,” Castiel hissed, rubbing his head.

“Cas?” Dean ran up to Castiel to check how badly he’d injured him. “Shit. I’m sorry. I was sleeping. I thought someone was breaking in.”

“It’s fine,” Castiel said, moving away when Dean reached his arm out. Since when did Castiel avoid Dean’s touch?

“What are you doing here?” Dean roamed his eyes over Castiel, noticing first his red-rimmed eyes. Dean would bet a thousand dollars that Castiel hadn’t slept well the night before. It was obvious how tired he was. But there was something different. Castiel didn’t have that zoned- out look anymore. He looked confident, if slightly nervous. And he smelled of greasy food.

“It’s my house too, isn’t it?” Castiel walked straight to their bedroom.

“What’s with the attitude?” Dean followed after him. He wasn’t looking to start a fight, but he needed to figure out what had changed between yesterday and today. “Why do you smell so different?”

“What kind of question is that?” Castiel asked, looking through the clothes in their walk-in closet. “How am I supposed to smell, exactly?”

“Not like that,” Dean said, standing on the doorway of their closet. “What the hell are you doing?”

Castiel sighed, giving up his search and turning to Dean. “Where are my uniforms?”

“Uniforms?”

“My work clothes,” Castiel said. “The khaki pants and polos I used to wear for work?”

“Why do you need them?”

“Oh my God, Dean,” Castiel snapped, rubbing his temples. “We need to stop asking each other so many questions and start giving answers. I need my work clothes.”

Dean clenched his teeth, taking a few deep breaths before answering. “Bottom drawer on the dresser.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, trying to step out of the closet, but Dean blocked the doorway. “Please step away.”

“No,” Dean said, frowning. “First you’re going to tell me why you need those clothes.”

A long, tense silence passed between them. Dean locked eyes with Castiel and neither of them looked away.

“I went back to work,” Castiel said, lifting his chin. “Ellen rehired me. I asked permission to leave work while I came home to pick up my uniforms. I’d assumed you’d be at work and I wouldn’t run into you. But I got hit with a shoe instead.”

Dean felt a knot in his throat. Of course he was thrilled that Castiel had returned to work. He’d been waiting for Castiel to get back to his old self, and he’d always thought that going back to the Roadhouse was the best start. But Dean couldn’t get past what Castiel said about wanting to avoid him. Why couldn’t they just have a civilized conversation? Why was that so hard for them?

“I’m sorry I hit you,” Dean said. “How’s your head?”

“I’ll live,” Castiel said.

Dean moved out of the way. “Where are you staying?”

“At Chuck’s.” Castiel dug through the bottom drawer and pulled out his clothes, stacking them on the floor beside him. “Why aren’t you at work?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Bobby let me come home early,” Dean said. “I’m going to clean out the garage.”

“Why?” Castiel looked Dean over his shoulder.

“We may need the storage space.” Dean shrugged.

“Are you going to shove all my things in the garage, Dean?”

“No,” Dean said, shifting. Dean had thought Castiel would be relieved to know Dean was giving him space. But judging by the look on Castiel’s face, Dean had greatly misjudged the situation.

Castiel scoffed, getting back to his feet. He collected his clothes and tucked them under his arm. “How long were you waiting for me to move out? If you were so eager to kick me out, you should have done it sooner.”

“Cas, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to fight right now.”

“But you want to get rid of all my shit,” Castiel said, raising his voice. “Is this not my house anymore? I was under the impression that it was. I had no idea that all my shit was taking up so much space in _your_ house. Why don’t you get rid of everything? That would make things easier. Just throw it all out. Who the fuck cares?”

“Cas.”

Castiel stepped closer, leaving almost no space between them. They were standing nose-to-nose, and Castiel had never looked more intimidating. “Don’t touch my stuff. I’ll come back for everything next week.”

“Fine,” Dean said, swallowing the lump on his throat. “Take everything with you. But don’t pretend I’m the one keeping you away. I wanted some time to clear my head. I didn’t ask you to _move out_.”

“It’s clear you don’t want me around anymore,” Castiel said, scowling.

“You were never here, Cas. Even when you were here physically, you were never really _here_. You left long ago.”

“I did,” Castiel said, his voice quiet. “I did it for myself. I don’t regret it.”

Dean was afraid to ask the next question, but he couldn’t keep it inside. “Is this over for us?”

Castiel blinked, taken aback. There was fear in his eyes for a moment, but then he looked away. “I’m willing to try counseling.”

“Me too,” Dean said.

That was something.

“Then that’s all we have left.”

Dean clenched his jaw. “Okay.”

“Bye, Dean.” Castiel rushed outside, rushed to get as far away from Dean as possible.

And Dean was left with the smallest glimmer of hope. Too small for comfort.

 

 

After his second week back at work, Castiel had gotten used to his new routine. He worked the morning shift five days a week, and he was damned good at it. He got along really well with Kevin, even though the kid pretended not to like him. Most of all, he enjoyed being around Ellen, Jo, and Ash, who were some of the best people he’d ever met. They all knew something was going on in Castiel’s marriage, but none of them pried, and Castiel was eternally grateful for that.

Every day after his shift, Castiel went to Chuck’s apartment. His second day living there, Castiel had gone shopping for groceries and stocked up Chuck’s fridge again since their cleanup day had resulted in them throwing out mostly everything—it was all moldy. Castiel cooked dinner for both of them and they ate together when Chuck got home. Then, the two of them would sit on the couch—Castiel’s new bed—and watch _The Twilight Zone_ while smoking a joint. They’d learned to live comfortably with each other.

Today, it was Thursday again. Chuck had long gone to bed, but Castiel lay awake on the couch, pressing his eyes tight together trying to will himself to sleep. When he realized that wasn’t working, Castiel checked his e-mails on his phone, something he’d neglected doing for weeks. He sat up when he saw an e-mail from Anna, two days ago.

 

_Hey, Castiel. Sorry I’ve been M.I.A. lately. Work’s been hell. I know this will sound pretentious, but can we schedule a phone call? I’m free Saturday morning. Is it alright if I call you around 10 in the morning? We can catch up then. I’m worried about you, but I didn’t want to call you until I had enough time to talk freely. Let me know if that time works for you._

_Love, Anna._

 

_Hey, sis. Sure. I’ll be waiting for your call Sat at 10am. Didn’t know I had to make an appointment to speak with you, but thanks for getting back to me. Don’t be worried. I’m perfectly fine. Promise._

_Castiel._

Half an hour of answering e-mails later, Castiel put his phone down again, yawning. He played with the ring that weighed down his left hand. It was simple and silver, and on the inside, Dean’s name was engraved. Dean’s ring had Castiel’s name engraved on it. The only time Castiel took it off was for work, but he made sure to put it back on as soon as his shift was over. Dean wore his even while he was at work, and he’d never lost it.

Castiel debated whether he should keep wearing it or not. He wondered if taking it off would change anything. Before coming to a decision, he fell asleep.

 

*******

 

Dean was eating dinner alone at his kitchen table when his phone rang. When he saw who was calling, he smiled. The first real smile he’d had in weeks.

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Dean, how are you? I got your message. I wanted to call earlier, but work’s been keeping me busy.”

“So it goes,” Dean said, chewing on his cereal. He hadn’t had a real dinner since Castiel left home. There was no point in cooking an elaborate meal for one.

“I’m sorry, don’t be mad,” Sam said. There was a lot of noise in the background. Sam was probably stuck in traffic after getting out of the office.

“I’m not mad,” Dean said, pushing his plate of soggy cereal away. “I’m glad you called, actually. It’s not easy being in my head lately.”

“I know, Dean. I can’t imagine what you must be going through.” A beat of silence. “I wouldn’t know what to do if Jess moved out.”

“Cas didn’t technically move out,” Dean said quickly. After that day with the uniforms, Castiel hadn’t returned for any of his belongings. Most of his things were still here, at their home. Dean hadn’t touched a single thing. Hell, he’d even given up on cleaning out the garage.

“You said you were going to counseling?”

“We are,” Dean said. “Made an appointment to see a marriage counselor in Dallas tomorrow. I’m not sure what to expect, but at this point, I’ll try anything.”

“You’re doing the right thing, Dean. Counseling isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“You kidding? I gotta tell some strangers about my private problems with my husband so they can tell me how to fix it. I don’t know how it could get any worse.”

Sam laughed. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure it won’t be so bad. Listen, I hate to rush off the phone, but I have to stop at the store to pick up wine. Jess’s parents are having dinner with us tonight, and I’m already an hour late.”

“Well, you don’t need them hating you more than they already do,” Dean said.

“They don’t hate me,” Sam said, defensively. “They said I wasn’t ‘that bad’ last time they came to visit. I’ve officially upgraded from ‘pretentious workaholic.’ I’d say that’s progress.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Maybe a year from now they’ll actually think you’re decent.”

“A man can dream,” Sam said, wistfully.

“I’ll talk to you later, Sammy.”

“Cool—hey, man, watch where you’re going!”

The line disconnected with the sound of a car honk.

 

*******

 

Castiel watched Dean from his truck, dreading the moment he’d have to step out. Dean’s Impala was parked on the other end of the parking lot. Dean was still inside his car, his head thrown back on his seat and his eyes closed. Castiel knew Dean hated this as much as he did. But they’d both agreed to this.

Castiel played with his ring—he’d decided to keep wearing it, just to avoid another unnecessary argument.

This was his life now.

Hesitantly, Castiel opened the truck’s door and stepped outside, stretching his limbs. The hour-long drive from Denton to Dallas had taken a toll on him. He wasn’t used to driving for long periods of time anymore. The five-minute drive from the Roadhouse to Chuck’s was the most he’d driven in half a year.

Castiel stood outside his truck, lighting a cigarette. He wasn’t a huge fan of cigarettes, but it wasn’t like he could smoke a joint outside the counselor’s building. He was a nervous wreck and he needed something to calm him down.

The loud screech of the Impala’s door made Castiel cringe. The familiar noise hadn’t always annoyed him, but lately, he’d learned to hate it.

Dean had dressed up for the occasion. He was wearing dark jeans, a fitted green shirt, and his favorite leather jacket. The length of his hair was shorter, and he’d plastered an entire bottle of gel on it that made it look stiff and sticky.

When the two of them locked eyes, Castiel held back a smile. Was he happy to see Dean? Yes. Did he want Dean to know that? Not really. Regardless, Dean smiled at him, a full-on grin that was blinding. Castiel nodded in response, too stubborn to let himself openly reciprocate.

They walked towards each other and stopped about three feet away. Castiel waved while Dean extended his hand for a handshake, which Castiel rejected. Why in the world would he shake hands with his husband?

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Dean cleared his throat. “You ready?”

“No,” Castiel said, licking his chapped lips. His mouth felt sandy all of a sudden. “Why did you pick this place? I hated the drive.”

Dean dug his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I spent a long time researching the best marriage counselors, and this place came highly recommended.” Dean frowned. “If this is our last shot, then I’m not going to half ass it.”

“Right.” Castiel tossed his cigarette on the floor and stepped on it. He ran a hand through his greasy hair; he hadn’t washed it in a few days. Before leaving Chuck’s apartment, Castiel hadn’t considered dressing up for this. He hadn’t even shaved, and his five o’clock shadow was at its peak. But now that he was standing in front of Dean, who looked straight out of a magazine, Castiel regretted wearing his holey jeans and faded Jurassic Park t-shirt.

“We should go inside,” Dean said, checking the time on his phone. “Our appointment’s in five minutes.”

“After you,” Castiel said.

Dean took the lead as they went inside. The place was small and it smelled like cinnamon spice. As a matter of fact, the smell was so strong that Castiel sneezed. The lady at the front desk told them to wait for her to call their names, and so they sat down, leaving two empty seats between them. Dean paged through a magazine, staring at models that weren’t half as beautiful as he was. Castiel fidgeted with his hands and his wedding ring. A quick glance in Dean’s direction let him know that Dean was, unsurprisingly, still wearing his own wedding ring.

What was the point of wedding rings? They were symbolic, sure. But what were _their_ wedding rings supposed to symbolize? Their marriage had stopped feeling like a marriage so long ago, it was hard to really pinpoint the moment when Castiel stopped feeling like a husband and started feeling alone.

Castiel wished for the numbness to return. Anything was better than this sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

“Novak-Winchester?”

Castiel looked up. Dean was already on his feet, motioning for Castiel to follow him. They went through a short hallway and entered a bright, roomy office that wasn’t pungent of cinnamon. All the windows in the room were open, letting in the air and sunlight from outside. The beige shag carpet was interesting, and it made Castiel’s feet sink in with every step. There were two paintings on the wall, one of the ocean at sunrise, and the other of the desert at night with a sky full of stars. Castiel stared at the desert painting for a long moment while Dean ran through introductions with the counselor.

“Cas?”

Castiel blinked, turning to Dean. “Yes?”

“Dr. Mills, this is Castiel Novak,” Dean said. “Cas, this is Dr. Mills.”

“Call me Jody,” the counselor said, shaking Castiel’s hand. “Please, have a seat.”

The two of them sat on a small couch, which made it impossible to leave enough space between them. Castiel was careful not to let his knee bump into Dean’s. Meanwhile, Dean removed his leather jacket and tossed it over the arm of the couch beside him, spreading his legs.

Dr. Mills—Jody—smiled politely at them, watching them carefully as they settled down.

“Thanks for seeing us so fast,” Dean said. “I know you had a lot of appointments this week.”

Jody waved a hand, dismissively. “I always make time for everyone. Now, why don’t you start by telling me more about your marriage?”

“Me?” Dean asked.

“You or Castiel,” Jody said, flicking her eyes from Dean to Castiel.

Castiel widened his eyes, sitting up straighter. “I—uh—I think Dean should start.”

Dean nodded, giving him a look that showed he understood. “Well, Cas and I met about four and a half years ago. We met through my friend, Charlie, and we were friends for about four months before we went on our first date. We were together two years before Castiel asked me to marry him, a week before I had planned to ask him. We’ve been married two years last January.”

“Okay, good,” Jody said, nodding along to all the details of their relationship.

Castiel hadn’t realized how easy it would be to summarize all of the history between them. Sometimes it was difficult to remember what his life had been like before Dean showed up in it. He could still remember the way he’d felt around him at the beginning. Charlie was a frequent customer of the Roadhouse, and she made a pastime out of bothering the cooking staff. Castiel had grown fond of her, but didn’t really consider her a friend until she invited him out to lunch a few times, only to bring Dean along one of those times. Castiel had been instantly taken with Dean, not only because he was good-looking—anyone could see that—but because he was unbelievably considerate to everyone around him.

The first time they’d met, Dean had asked Castiel if he was okay with Dean joining them because he didn’t want to interrupt their time together. After Castiel gave his okay, Dean made sure to keep him included in the conversation, even though it was obvious how long his friendship with Charlie was—eight years and counting. Dean made quite a memorable first impression, and their friendship grew naturally after that. And then…

“Cas, you want to take it from here?” Dean asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“Jody asked if we want to share with each other why we haven’t exactly been getting along lately,” Dean said, catching Castiel’s eyes and not looking away.

“I thought that’s what we were here to find out,” Castiel said, looking at Jody.

Jody smiled again. “Yes, we are. We don’t have to start with the negative. Why don’t you tell me what made you decide to get married?”

“Love,” Castiel said easily.

“Love. Okay. Good. Would you like to elaborate?”

Castiel squinted at the desert painting hanging on the wall behind Jody. He could almost make out every detail. “I fell in love. It’s the only thing I’m certain of. I couldn’t tell you why or how or when it happened. But I remember thinking one day that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Dean, and I wanted everyone to know it. There was nothing more powerful to me than the way I felt for Dean. It was just all-consuming. It was…Loving Dean was beautiful.”

“Excellent,” Jody said. “That’s really good to hear. Dean, do you have anything to add?”

Dean was staring at Castiel, mouth open. There was no reason to look so shocked. Castiel tilted his head in Dean’s direction, squinting his eyes. They locked eyes for a long moment until Jody cleared her throat and asked Dean to proceed.

“I didn’t know I could feel so strongly for another person until I met Cas,” Dean said, still staring at Castiel. “I wanted to share every part of my life with him, and then some. I wanted a family, a white-picket fence, Fourth-of-July barbecues, lazy weekends and even lazier vacations. Then, when we were old and gray, I wanted us to sit out in the backyard, drinking coffee and watching the sunset every evening after dinner. A simple, easy life. That’s what I wanted.”

“Is that no longer what you want, Dean?” Jody asked.

Castiel waited for Dean’s answer.

Dean glanced at Jody. “Sure I do. I still want all of that. But things changed along the way. I’d just like to figure out what changed them.”

“By ‘things’ he means me,” Castiel said. “I’m the one that changed.”

Jody nodded. “Okay. Would you like to address that?”

“No,” Castiel said, shifting uncomfortably.

Dean sighed.

“I don’t like the way Dean decided to put all the blame of our separation on me,” Castiel said, his voice wavering slightly. “I don’t think he’s realized his fault in all of this.”

“My _fault_?” Dean said.

“When you don’t get what you want, the way you want it, you lash out,” Castiel said. “You had little patience when I needed it the most. If you still can’t see that, then we’ll just keep going in circles.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I had a lot of patience for six months, Cas. And then you gave up.”

Castiel looked at his hands, played with his wedding ring again. “I didn’t give up on us. You can’t see that, but that’s not my fault.”

“All I see is you always making things more difficult for both of us,” Dean said. “It’s like you don’t even give a damn anymore.”

Castiel looked at Jody again. “Are we done here? I’ve said all I had to say.”

“We still have a few more minutes,” Jody said.

“Then we’ll just sit here quietly,” Castiel said, removing his ring. Discreetly, he tucked it in his front pocket.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, having followed the action.

Castiel glared at him. “It was hurting my finger.”

“I’ve never taken mine off,” Dean said. “Do you ever hear me complain?”

“All the time.”

“Cas.”

“It’s just a ring, Dean. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s our _wedding_ ring.”

“Our wedding was two years ago. It’s no longer necessary.”

“Cas.”

“I think we’re done here.”

“Cas, wait.”

“It was nice meeting you, Jody. Thank you for your help.”

Castiel was out the door before Dean could catch up to him.

And then the bodies started raining from the sky.


	2. Death and Destruction

“Cas!” Dean called from the steps of the building. This couldn’t be happening. How did this go so wrong? They were making progress, and then they lost everything. _Everything_. And now Castiel was running away from him. For good. Forever. And Dean couldn’t stop him.

A few feet in front of Castiel, a loud object fell from the sky with a bang. The huge impact rattled the ground and Castiel fell back. Dean ran to his side, offering his hand for support, but before he could haul Castiel back to his feet, another object fell from the sky.

It took a long moment for Dean to realize that the heavy objects were human bodies, demolished from the fall. Realization seemed to have struck Castiel first because he was already puking on the ground.

A third body fell at the entrance of the building. The lady who greeted them stood at the glass door, staring at the splattered body with wide eyes. Her palms pressed against the door, and she screamed at the top of her lungs.

And then something surreal happened—more surreal than dead bodies falling from the sky. An enormous winged human materialized on top of the building they had just exited. The human looked like a man aside from the giant gray bird wings extended at his sides. A wide grin spread on the man’s face, contrasting his intimidating demeanor of his black attire, and then with the snap of his fingers, the building was demolished. One second it was standing solid and the next it was rubble. Just like that. Impossible and yet so real. The building became nothing.

It happened so quickly that Dean didn’t get to see if the woman had escaped. Of course not. The building had collapsed with everyone inside it.

“Holy—” Dean said, but was cut off by the winged man’s sudden speech. The man who, by the way, was levitating—no, flying—above his merciless destruction.

“Listen to me, humans,” he said in a booming voice so loud it was like it lived inside Dean’s ears. He was addressing an audience Dean couldn’t see. “We have arrived to this mistreated, abused planet of yours to remove every infestation walking the land and contaminating the oceans. Sinners, beware, for we are here, and we won’t leave until every single one of you is nothing but ashes. There is no place to run.”

Dean pulled Castiel up from the ground and stepped in front of him, looking up at the man as he moved his wings in practiced motions. It was difficult to note the details of the wings, despite their astounding size, but Dean could not tear his gaze from them.

The man was still floating, or flying, and scanning the area. Dean and Castiel stood motionless in the parking lot. Dean thought about hiding, but the man had already seen them and he still hadn’t killed them. Besides, his shaky legs weren’t allowing him to move. Castiel stood closer to his back, both hands on Dean’s shoulders, gripping tightly.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered.

That’s when the man turned to them, which was the first time he’d bothered to acknowledge their presence. “Do not fear, humans. We are only here to destroy true sinners. Your sins are not grand enough to deserve our ultimate punishment.”

And with that, the winged man vanished.

Dean looked around to make sure this wasn’t a trick and the bird-man wasn’t going to just attack them blindly. He was really gone. His destruction, however, remained.

Dean and Castiel walked in silence to the place where the building used to stand. They tried to remove some of the rubble, calling out in case there was anyone left alive. They only found a hand sticking out, already cold.

“He killed Jody,” Castiel said. “He killed everyone in this building. People fell from the sky, Dean. There are guts on the fucking ground. What the hell!”

Dean stared at Castiel, helplessly.

Castiel turned Dean around by the shoulder and wrapped his arms around him. With a fierce strength, Castiel held on to Dean, offering as much support as he was taking. Dean hugged him back, gripping Castiel’s shirt to stop his shaking hands. Soothing hands rubbed Dean’s back, and they clung to each other until Dean could feel the solidness of his legs again.

“Dean, I don’t have signal on my phone,” Castiel said, pulling away.

Dean checked his own phone, and the signal was completely gone on his phone as well. “We could drive to a police station. I doubt any cop has received training for that monster, but we should alert them anyway.”

“I think everyone heard that message,” Castiel said, shivering at the memory.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Castiel said, taking a shaky breath. “I need to get in touch with Anna. We should find a landline.”

“Where would we find a landline in this century?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “There’s a Wal-Mart down the street.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded. “Let’s go to Wal-Mart.”

“Get in the truck,” Castiel said, holding Dean’s hand and giving it a tug.

Dean let Castiel pull him forward before he protested. “I think we should go in my car.”

Castiel stared at him. “What’s wrong with my truck? It drives fine.”

“If it wasn’t obvious enough, the world’s pretty much going to shit right now. I don’t think this is something we should waste time arguing over.”

“Agreed,” Castiel said, letting go of Dean’s hand. “Let’s take separate vehicles.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Cas, that’s impractical, and probably unsafe, judging by the bird-man that just demolished a building with the snap of his fingers.”

“We can discuss this later.” Castiel didn’t wait for Dean to respond. He climbed in his truck and pulled up beside the Impala, rolling down his window. “Dean, get in your car and follow me. There’s no cell connection and I don’t want to lose you.”

Dean’s heart leapt at that, despite the circumstances. “I’ll follow you.”

Once they were on the road, Castiel in his truck close in front of him, Dean took in the town. There were a few small buildings destroyed, though their bodies were nowhere in sight. Nobody was running on the streets hysterically, though there were a few people standing around, looking more confused than panicked. Other than that, everything was eerily quiet. There were few cars on the road, which was the strangest thing, considering that Dallas was high in population.

Castiel pulled up at the Wal-Mart, parking far from the entrance. The parking lot was as packed as any other day, which was at least one normal aspect. There were people walking to and from their cars, carrying bags and pushing shopping carts, all the while glaring at their cell phones.

As soon as they were both parked, Dean exited the Impala, rushing to Castiel’s side. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid, and having Castiel close was comforting.

“Did you see any other bird-men?” Dean asked, clearing his throat.

Castiel swallowed. “Dean, what if what we saw today was an angel?”

“What makes you think that son of a bitch was an angel? I thought angels were little naked babies with wings and a harp and a little halo on top.”

Castiel sighed. “Dean, come on. Don’t be so close-minded. Look, our therapist just died. If I hadn’t walked out of that building with you following after me, we would have both died in there. Sins or no sins.”

Of all the crazy shit Dean had heard today, that made the top of the list. How could that giant winged man be an angel? But Dean kept his thoughts to himself. It didn’t matter that bird-men were killing people all of a sudden, Dean still had his marriage to save. Arguing with Castiel about the plausibility of evil killer angels wouldn’t help his situation.

“You’re right,” Dean said. “We gotta focus. We need to find a phone so we can call Anna and Sammy.”

They walked side by side this time, which was an improvement. The majority of the Wal-Mart customers seemed to be having their own personal disputes with their broken cell phones. Dean caught a few people running to their cars, a woman in tears tugging on her daughter’s hand, a big family yelling at each other as they discussed hell, and a few others leaving their full shopping carts behind to run faster.

Outside the main entrance was a young man gripping a Bible to his chest, praying loudly to the people trafficking through. Most people glared at him, others ignored him, but Castiel walked right up to him.

“Excuse me, sir, do you mind telling me what you’re praying about?” Castiel asked.

The man’s lip trembled when he laid his eyes on Castiel, and then his breathing got hard, and in a matter of seconds, he was hyperventilating. Castiel placed his hands on the man’s shoulders and talked him through his panic attack until he was calmer.

“You still with me?” Castiel asked.

The man nodded, running a shaky hand through his brown hair. “I’m praying for mercy.”

“You heard the angel?” Castiel asked.

“I heard the _angels_. There’s a lot of them. Everywhere in the world. They…they’re here to wipe out humanity. They don’t know what they’re doing, but they know how to kill.”

Castiel glanced at Dean before he looked back at the trembling man. “I don’t understand. We only heard one angel, and you heard more than one, but all of these people seem clueless.”

“People, we can make ourselves oblivious,” the man said. “You’re going to think I’m crazy if I tell you that because of my strong faith in God I’m more in tune with the angels, but that’s my only theory. I can’t find another explanation.”

“We just saw one of those angels you heard,” Dean said. “About fifteen minutes ago. How long have you been tuning in to this angel radio?”

“It started three hours ago,” he said, swallowing. “I’m here because my mom works at this Wal-Mart, and I’m praying to God no angel brings down the building. I can’t make her believe me, or any of these people. You said you’ve actually seen one up close?”

“Yeah, right before he took down a building,” Castiel said. “There were bodies falling from the sky.”

“It’s getting worse,” he said, shifting anxiously. “Oh crap. What am I supposed to do? I’m not prepared to live through the end of the world. I just graduated college. I haven’t had a real girlfriend yet. I haven’t traveled enough.”

“Breathe,” Castiel said. “What’s your name?”

“Ben,” he said.

“Breathe, Ben. You’re going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Dean touched the small of Castiel’s back. “I can go check on the phones if you want to keep the kid company.”

“Sure,” Castiel said, looking back at Ben. “Maybe you can tell me more about what you’ve heard.”

Ben didn’t look too happy with that plan, but Dean knew that Castiel would get as much information out of him as he could.

Inside the store, there was a bit more chaos. Apparently, the cell phone signals being down caused more panic than angels showing up on earth to destroy the planet. All around there were people screaming at each other, at their phones, at the walls, and the poor store employees were having a real hard time getting them under control.

Dean walked right up to the customer service department, which had a waiting line leading down the length of the store. Excusing himself, Dean cut to the front of the line, ignoring the chorus of protests behind him.

“Quiet down,” Dean told the crowd. “I just need to use their phone.”

“Phone lines are down, sir,” one of the employees said, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. Whatever they were paying her, it was most definitely not worth the day she was having.

Dean sighed. “I figured that much. Well, thanks, anyway.”

“What’s going on out there?” the employee asked, squinting her eyes at him in the same way Castiel usually did.

“I couldn’t tell you,” Dean said. What did he really know, anyway? “But I think it’s best if you go home. I saw a building fall to pieces in front of my eyes.” He decided not to mention the dead bodies that fell from the sky.

“Oh, God,” she said.

“Stay safe,” Dean said, heading back outside.

Castiel and Ben were still talking near the store’s entrance when Dean found them. Judging by the look on Castiel’s face, Dean could guess that nothing he’d heard was good news. Before Dean could ask for any details, there was an explosion in the parking lot.

 

 *******  

 

The shock of the explosion was nothing compared to the asphyxiating smell of the smoke all the fire was emitting. At the edge of the parking lot, a car had blown up out of nowhere. The car went up in flames, and if there were any passengers inside, they were undoubtedly dead by now. The people in the parking lot all ran away from the explosion, gripping their cell phones in hand despite them being completely useless.

“We need to go,” Dean said, looking from Castiel to Ben. There was a bead of sweat on his temple. “Are you going to stay here? I don’t think it’s safe.”

“It’s not safe anywhere,” Ben said. “I’ll keep praying.” Then he closed his eyes and continued with his loud prayers that only added to the sudden hysteria.

Castiel wished he could help Ben, but he knew it was out of his hands. Besides, he wasn’t sure if he could even protect Dean in this new world where all disasters occurred purposefully. Fucking angels. Because that’s what they were. Castiel had no doubt about that anymore. Dean’s perception of angels was the total opposite of reality, but Castiel wasn’t going to use that against him now.

To prevent losing each other, Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand as they walked to their vehicles. “Did the phones work?”

“No,” Dean said, watching the flames of the burning car, covering his nose as they neared the explosion area. His chest was puffing and his eyes were filled with anxiety. Castiel squeezed his hand.

“Goddammit,” Castiel hissed, covering himself as well.

Dean gave him a look. Castiel shrugged in response.

When they made it to the back of the parking lot, it was slightly easier to breathe. Castiel walked Dean to the Impala and waited until he was safely behind the wheel.

“How are you feeling, Dean?”

Dean shrugged. “About what, exactly? About going to see a counselor and chasing after you when you gave up? About the rain of dead bodies? About watching a bird-man, who you think is an angel, bring down a building? About seeing a car blow up and not being able to call the fucking fire department?”

Castiel cupped Dean’s cheek, trying to comfort him as best as he could. “We’ll get through this, you and I. First, we need to stop at the Roadhouse and see how everyone’s doing.”

“And then?” Dean asked, looking up at him, searching for all the answers that Castiel didn’t have.

“And then we’ll make it up as we go,” Castiel said, lowering his hand.

Dean nodded solemnly, right on board with the plan.

This time, Castiel didn’t withhold his smile, brief as it was.

 

 

During the hour-long drive to the Roadhouse, Castiel lost track of Dean’s Impala a few times, and they were probably the worst moments of his life. Without any working phones and with random disasters at every corner, Castiel feared the worst. Granted, they were both going to the same place, but there were a thousand things that could go wrong on such a long drive. Not to mention it was already late in the evening and it was harder to keep track of anything. Castiel blamed Dean for picking a counselor so far away from home, but he also blamed himself for being too stubborn to get in the Impala when Dean had suggested it.

The Roadhouse was more packed than it had ever been in its fourteen years in business. Most of the neighborhood was inside, and those who weren’t inside were taking smoking breaks in small groups right outside the door. There wasn’t enough sitting room for all the new customers, but they didn’t seem to mind. People were sitting on the tables and on the floors, and most were standing, huddled up together like penguins.

Castiel spotted Ellen behind the counter, refilling people’s coffee. Sitting across from her was Bobby, and the sight of him in one piece was a relief.

“Charlie’s here,” Dean said, waving over at her. She was one of the people sitting on a table. She was still in her blue scrubs.

“So is Bobby,” Castiel said, tilting his chin his direction.

“Coming here was a good idea,” Dean said, smiling faintly at Castiel before heading over to greet Bobby and Charlie.

Castiel called Jo over when she passed by with three plates of food. She handed the plates to a few people sitting on the floor before she walked over to Castiel.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re busy, but talk to me. Are you okay?”

“What the fuck is going on, man?” Jo looked around the diner and scoffed. “People fell from the sky down the block. I had to stand there and see their insides splattered all over the sidewalk. We spent the afternoon covering up dead bodies. When we went to the police station, there was no one to help us. Apparently this shit’s been happening all day today. They don’t know what to do. They just told us to be careful and watch our surroundings. My mom decided to offer free food and shelter to everyone, so now there’s not even a place to breathe. It’s nuts!”

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck. “I know, Jo. I saw it happen. Is there anything I can do?”

“Chuck and Kevin have been on kitchen duty for twelve hours straight,” Jo said. “If you want to lend them a hand, by all means.”

Castiel nodded. “Of course.”

Jo sighed. “I’m glad you’re okay, Cas. Sorry I didn’t start with that.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too, Jo.”

“I saw you come in with Dean,” Jo said. “Everything okay?”

Dean was standing in front of Charlie as she devoured a grilled cheese sandwich. He kept trying to steal some of it, but she didn’t give him a chance with how fast she was eating it.

“Other than how hungry he looks, I think he’s fine,” Castiel said, looking back at Jo. “I was worried earlier. We saw an explosion and I know he gets antsy around fire.”

“I’ll go talk to him,” Jo said.

“Tell him I’ll have some food right out for him,” Castiel said, heading directly into the kitchen.

Castiel found Chuck frying chicken tenders while Kevin was chopping up vegetables. When they saw him enter, both of them looked relieved.

“Glad to see you safe and sound, Cas,” Chuck said. “You hungry? I’m almost done with this.”

Castiel grabbed a clean apron and tied it around him. “I’m actually here to replace both of you. Go get some rest. You need it.”

“I’m not tired,” Kevin said, continuing with his task.

“I didn’t ask if you were,” Castiel said, washing his hands.

Chuck snorted. “My feet are killing me, and Kevin was falling asleep a while ago. You’re just in time, Cas.”

Castiel smiled, shoving Chuck and Kevin out of the kitchen. “Go take a nap or something. I’ll take care of everything back here.”

“Hey, wait, you didn’t tell me how it went today at counseling,” Chuck said, turning back around.

Castiel sighed, busying himself with the food. To avoid looking up, he stared hard at the frying strips. “It didn’t go so well. That was before all hell broke loose. I don’t know. Everything happened so fast.”

“Where’s Dean?” Chuck asked.

“Here,” Castiel said. “We haven’t had a chance to talk.”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Chuck said. “But hey, maybe you can still work things out. Especially now with all this, right?”

Castiel took out the chicken strips and put them on a plate. “God knows what’s going to happen anymore.”

A few hours later, the orders had stopped and Castiel put his apron away. When he stepped out to the front, half of the people were gone. A few of the remaining ones were napping on the long booth seats, while others were wide awake, drinking coffee. One of the few lively tables was where Castiel found Dean, along with Charlie, Bobby, and Ellen.

“It’s about time you came out and joined us,” Charlie said, sliding out of her seat to wrap her arms around Castiel. The girl had a strong grip. “You didn’t even say hi!”

“I know, I was incredibly rude. I didn’t greet anybody.” Castiel wiped his hands on his pants, feeling the lingering grease on his hands despite washing them thoroughly. It was the same problem Dean faced after a long day fixing cars. “Hello, sir,” he said, shaking Bobby’s hand. “The kitchen’s all clean,” he said to Ellen.

“Have a seat, boy,” Ellen said, scooting over. “You and Charlie fit fine here with me.”

Castiel wanted to politely decline because he was exhausted and he craved his bed with a fiery intensity, but he wasn’t sure he had the privilege to neglect his friends and family anymore. There were no guarantees. So, he scooted down the booth, squished between Ellen and Charlie.

“Thanks for the burger,” Dean said, looking at him from across the table. There was kindness in his eyes that Castiel didn’t miss.

“You’re welcome,” Castiel said, clearing his throat.

“Looks like the phone lines are down everywhere,” Bobby said, sipping his beer. “Internet, too. But—lucky us—we still got electricity.”

“Lucky us,” Dean said.

“Who would have thought angels would be such dicks?” Ellen said.

“They weren’t all sunshine and rainbows in the Bible, Ellen,” Bobby said.

“But this is pushing it.”

Charlie groaned. “I don’t want to keep talking about this, guys. Seriously, I think we’re all aware of the fucked-up situation we’re in, but can we just try to be normal people one last time? I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But at least we have tonight.”

Silence passed between them. It was tense and awkward, but then Jo showed up with a whole lemon meringue pie and conversation sparked anew. There were many topics of conversations, and Castiel was grateful that they all strayed away from Dean and his counseling session. Maybe it was pointless worrying about his marriage at a time like this, but it was impossible to clear it out of his mind. There were many things unsaid between them, and Castiel needed to say them out loud before it was too late.

There was only one piece of pie left, and Charlie beat Dean to it. With a smug smile, she took a big bite of it.

“Barbarian,” Dean said, narrowing his eyes.

Jo rolled her eyes. “Quit whining. I let you have the rest of my piece.”

“A piece and a half doesn’t satisfy my need for pie,” Dean said.

Charlie continued eating, bouncing around in her seat. “It is _so_ good.”

“Thank you,” Ellen said, grinning proudly. If one thing could be said about Ellen, it was her amazing baking skills. It wasn’t enough to create new dishes for the diner, she also spent a lot of times making some of the best pies in the county. Dean worshipped them, of course.

Bobby checked his watch. “It’s almost midnight. I think it’s best if I head on home. If it’s still standing, it should make it through the night. Ellen, I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Good. I’ll be expecting you first thing,” Ellen said. “We need to get to work.”

“Work on what?” Castiel wondered.

“Well, most of the people here tonight lost family members, homes, cars, you name it. That’s why I offered them a place to sleep and free food. But food ain’t free for me, so we need new deliveries. God knows if they’re shipping anything anymore, but it’s not like I can call anyone up and find out. So, we’re going to steal it.” Ellen smirked.

“Mom, we talked about this,” Jo said. “I don’t like your plan. It’s too risky.”

“Risky’s my middle name,” Ellen said.

“Jo’s right, Ellen.” Dean grimaced. “It could be dangerous. The world’s gone to shit, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be repercussions for stealing, not to mention breaking and entering.”

“If someone throws a fuss then I’ll pay for it,” Ellen said, shrugging.

Bobby quirked his lips into the faintest grin. “I like the way you think. Like I said, I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to drive all the way home,” Dean said as Bobby scooted out of his seat. Dean glanced at Castiel before he continued. “Our house is big. We have two guest rooms. You could stay there tonight.”

Bobby grunted. “I appreciate the offer, son, but it’s been a real long day and nothing brings me more comfort than being home, even for a few hours.”

“Take care, Bobby,” Dean said, watching with concern as Bobby left the diner.

It wasn’t just Dean that felt uneasy. Castiel had this gnawing feeling he couldn’t shake. It was probably due to the awful day he’d had, but something didn’t feel right.

And then he remembered that he still hadn’t heard from Anna. There was no way to reach her either. The only option Castiel was left with was traveling across the country to New York, hoping that he’d find her alive and well in her condo. It was a long shot, but it was the only solution he could find.

Castiel was still pondering trekking the country to find his sister when he heard his name.

“Cas?” Chuck was standing at the table.

“Sorry, didn’t see you coming,” Castiel said, tilting his head. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, no,” Chuck said quickly. “I mean, I don’t know if my family’s okay, but that’s another issue entirely. I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading back to my place, and I’m wondering if you want to ride with me? Kevin’s staying over tonight, by the way. Hope that’s okay with you.”

Castiel smiled. Chuck was a really considerate friend. “Thanks, Chuck, but I was actually thinking of going back to my house tonight. If that’s okay with you, Dean.” Castiel looked at Dean, warily. He wasn’t sure where they stood, but he hoped some of the kindness Dean had showed earlier still lingered.

“It’s your house, too,” Dean said, nodding.

Castiel caught sight of Kevin heading to the door. “Don’t drool on my couch.”

Kevin made a face and ignored the remark, walking outside.

“He loves me,” Castiel said.

“Madly,” Chuck said, chuckling softly. It was almost a foreign sound.

“Goodnight, my darlings,” Charlie said, blowing kisses at the two of them.

“Don’t make me jealous,” Castiel said.

“I love you, too, babe,” Charlie said, wrapping her arms tightly around Castiel, bumping their heads together.

And for a second, life was simple and easy again.

After Chuck and Kevin left, Ellen, Jo went back to putting the diner back together after the disorder left behind. Castiel and Dean offered to help, but Ellen kicked them both out and told them to get a good night’s rest so they could come back in the morning and help out.

Since they had no alternative, Castiel and Dean left, each on their separate vehicles.


	3. Flame I

Anna heard the voice, loud and clear.

It was an angel. Announcing doomsday. Not the way she thought it’d happen. At least she didn’t think she’d be alive to witness the earth’s destruction. But of course, she was. Had to be.

From her window, she watched the attacks. The people who were lifted off to the air and then tossed to the ground like dodge balls. The houses that were torn down. The cars that exploded. She saw it all.

And she ran.

Ran until her feet hurt and her heart knocked against her ribs. Ran until she found a place to stop. It wasn’t safe, but then, nothing was safe anymore. She knew that much.

There was chaos around her, but in here it was quiet. No, it was abandoned. Already.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, feeling her breath escape in sharp breaths. “I’m okay.”

Anna couldn’t stay in this place. But she would rest before she kept going.

As soon as she lay down in the only warm spot in the room, her mind wandered. But not for long. There were screams outside. No, shrieks. Painful. Agonizing. She clenched her jaw.

It was a big city. People were dying in mass.

She lay there, listening to death.


	4. Communication and Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: mention of childhood abuse

Their house was still intact, but both of the houses surrounding it were completely demolished. Dean hadn’t known their neighbors so well, but the sadness he felt at knowing they died in their own home weighed down on him. Dean had considered the possibility that maybe some of the people could still be rescued from the ruined buildings, but Bobby had told him that a group of them had already tried to dig through and look for survivors, but none were found alive. The angels seemed to be experts at killing humans on the first try.

Dean parked his Impala beside Castiel’s truck. The sight of the two vehicles on his driveway again was comforting. He’d been surprised and relieved when Castiel asked to come back home. If Castiel hadn’t suggested it, then Dean would have asked him.

After Dean unlocked the front door, Castiel went in first and turned on all the lights on his path to the living room. Dean made sure to double lock the door, even though it would do nothing to stop the angels, but it was all he could do to feel safe.

Castiel was sprawled on his recliner with his eyes closed and his feet up. A deep sigh escaped him. It was sorrowful.

“This feels nice,” Castiel said, opening his eyes. “I missed my chair.”

“I can tell.” Dean sat on the couch a few feet away, removing his shoes and slouching back. “God, I’m beat.”

“Me too.”

“You want a beer?”

“No.” Castiel was quiet for a moment, his eyes on the wall. For a moment, Dean worried that Castiel had gone back to his zoning-out self, but then he looked at Dean, squinting. “We should talk.”

“I know,” Dean said slowly. “But I wish we didn’t.”

“Why?”

Dean’s heart was racing, but for all the wrong reasons. “I know where this conversation will take us, but I’m not ready to go there. Not now.”

“Dean.”

“You took off your wedding ring. Don’t give me that crap about how it’s just a meaningless ring because I don’t buy it. You know how much those damned rings mean to me.”

Castiel looked away.

“Are you going to shut me out again?” Dean asked, and he hated the way his voice broke at the end of that sentence.

“Dean, I know that I haven’t made it easy on you these past few months, but it wasn’t because of you,” Castiel said, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sick of keeping this inside, so I’ll come clean. I don’t think it’ll change anything, but I know you want to know the reason why my behavior changed. So, I’ll tell you.”

This was the last thing Dean had expected from Castiel. Blinking, Dean moved to the edge of the couch, giving Castiel his full attention.

“Soon after my father died, I had a series of repressed memories resurface,” Castiel said, staring at the same wall he’d stared at during all their arguments. “You know that all my life, I did my best to make my father proud, despite being the opposite of what he wanted in a son. I dropped out of business school, I married a man, I rejected all of his financial help, but I always wanted his approval. And I never got it. So I was consumed by this feeling of guilt when he died because I felt like a terrible son. I couldn’t even remember the last conversation I had with him, but I know it wasn’t civil.”

“Neither was mine,” Dean muttered.

Castiel sighed. “Anyway, the memories came one at a time. They started a week after his death. In all of them, I was a young boy, maybe five or six, and my father, he beat me. All the time. It wasn’t the kind of beating where a father pats the child’s hand to teach him right from wrong, it was…more than that.” Castiel closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “It was violent slaps and shoves and kicks and pinches that hurt and burned. I remembered a time when he put out a cigarette on my back, too. He liked seeing me squirm and cry. I’m not exactly sure when that ended, but I remembered having therapy sessions. I remembered my mom taking me by the hand to the therapist’s office, and I was always so afraid to go inside. I don’t know what I told that therapist, but I couldn’t have told the truth. My dad was never found out.” Castiel chuckled mirthlessly. “He always got away with everything.”

“Cas.”

“Somehow, I learned to forget these things as if they’d never happened. But after I remembered them, I couldn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t as though I could scream at my father anymore, though I did scream at his grave a few times.” Castiel rubbed his hands on his face. “At first, I thought about telling you. I never kept anything from you. But these were my demons, and I didn’t want to burden you with them.”

“You wouldn’t have burdened me,” Dean said, feeling lightheaded.

“I called my mother once,” Castiel continued, “trying to ask if she remembered this, but she got terribly quiet on the phone and asked me to never bring it up again. I struggled with reconnecting the image of my father on a pedestal with the memories that kept coming up. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I couldn’t figure out how to merge these two people, the idealized version and the violent one, so I chose to forget. I figured out that the only way to keep this away was by being present as little as possible. The farther away I got, the harder it was to come back to reality, to you.”

Castiel’s bright blue eyes were fixed on Dean, welled up with tears. Somehow, Castiel kept himself from spilling any of them.

On the one hand, it was difficult seeing Castiel so broken and hurt over something so cruel from his past. For so long, Castiel had carried this by himself, and it was painful seeing how much it still affected him. If Dean had had any idea of what was happening, he would have tried to help him somehow. But Castiel hadn’t trusted Dean enough to share this with him before.

Maybe they should have gone to therapy sooner.

On the other hand, Dean was enraged at Castiel’s bastard of a father. During his lifetime, the man did his best to make Castiel feel awful as often as he could. Castiel reached out to him plenty of times, only to be constantly rejected. Dean had only stood back and watched as Castiel tried to reconnect with his father time and time again, up until the day he died. Dean had often wondered if Castiel had changed because he never fixed his relationship with his father, but he’d never imagined _this_.

“Cas, baby, I—I’m sorry.” Dean knelt on the floor at Castiel’s side, holding Castiel’s trembling hands in his. “Talk to me. I’m here. I’m listening. You can trust me. I’m your husband. I’m your friend.”

“Dean…” Castiel measured his words and blinked away his tears, holding himself up strong and solid. He was closing himself off, making himself appear less vulnerable. Dean couldn’t help feeling frustrated at not being able to get Castiel to really trust him.

“What is it?”

“When I left, things changed,” Castiel said, swallowing. “All this time with you, I let you take care of me. Then you told me to go, and I had no choice but to get it together. When I stopped relying on you, I learned to rely on myself again. I needed to care for myself in order to gain back the strength I’d lost with those memories.” Castiel rubbed his eyes, letting out a loud groan. He dropped his hands and glanced at Dean, hesitating before he spoke again. “I know you don’t want to hear this, Dean, but I felt stronger without you.”

In their time together, Dean had never heard words that gutted him as much as those did. But Dean had to take a moment to really look at the situation before he jumped to conclusions. Castiel did all he could to hide from the pain, and the more Dean coddled him, the deeper Castiel sunk. Maybe their separation had been necessary for Castiel to come to terms with everything, and Dean had no right to judge Castiel, even if it took Dean out of the equation.

“I get it,” Dean said, moving back to sit on the edge of the couch. “You needed your own space. I get it, Cas.”

“You’re not mad?” Castiel watched Dean carefully.

“I’m not mad,” Dean said, looking directly at Castiel so he could see Dean meant every word. “If anything, I’m mad at myself for being such an ass to you. I should have paid attention. All this time, I was so sure you were just bored with our marriage, but I never thought to look beyond that.”

“I should have let you in,” Castiel whispered.

Dean took an unsteady breath. “Cas, I decided to go to Houston to find Sam. I’m leaving tomorrow. I wanted you to come with me, but I won’t force you to join me. If you need more time on your own, I understand.”

“I need to find Anna in New York,” Castiel said quietly, wrapping his arms around himself. “We’ll be going in two very separate directions if we do this.”

“I know.” Dean hated the thought of being so far away from Castiel for an indefinite amount of time. Without phones or internet, it would be that much harder to get in touch with each other. What if Castiel got hurt and Dean never heard from him again? What if they never made it back to each other?

“I know I said I felt stronger without you,” Castiel said, looking down at his feet. “But I’m not ready to lose you, Dean. I don’t like the uncertainty of us going our separate ways, not knowing when I’d see you again. I don’t know what’s out there, and I’m scared. I’m so scared. Every time I close my eyes I see those bodies on the ground. I can’t stop seeing the angel on top of that building.”           

“Hey, hey, Cas, it’s okay.” Dean was at Castiel’s side again, and he wrapped his arms around him, making soothing motions on his back. “I’ve got you. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere without you. We’re doing this together, alright? You and me. We’re going to find Sam and we’re going to find Anna. We’ll get through this, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

When Dean tried to help Castiel to his feet, Castiel relented. Slowly, Dean guided Castiel to their bedroom, turning on the lamp on Castiel’s nightstand. Dean led Castiel to his side of the bed, then he bent down to remove Castiel’s shoes and unbuckled his belt, easing him out of his pants. Clad in his boxers and Jurassic Park t-shirt, Castiel looked at Dean intently.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry. I know you said you didn’t want to rely on me anymore. I don’t listen very well.”

Castiel shrugged. “I like it when you take care of me. Sometimes I need it. But let me take care of myself too.”

Dean nodded. “Do you need anything from the kitchen? I’m going to grab some water. Unless you want to get it yourself…”

Castiel smiled softly. “Water sounds good.”

Dean turned around. Before he stepped away, Castiel grabbed Dean’s forearm to stop him. A slight tug was all Dean needed to lean forward and give Castiel his full attention again.

Gently, Castiel pressed his lips to Dean’s in a soft kiss that was honest-to-God revitalizing. The kiss was brief, but profound, and it left Dean’s cheeks flushed. There hadn’t been time to hold on to Castiel like he’d wanted to, but Dean knew he couldn’t just take whatever he wanted. That wasn’t how marriage worked. Castiel still needed his space.

“Thank you,” Castiel said.

Dean touched his lower lip with his thumb. “Thank _you_.”

“I missed you.”

“Me too.”

Castiel sat on the bed and sighed. “I missed my bed.”

“It cried most nights for you,” Dean said. “Kept me up with its bed weeping.”

“It’s good to be back.”

“It really is.” Dean smiled, hopeful and hesitant, all the same.

 

*******

 

As soon as Dean left the room, Castiel went into his closet and knelt in front of his shoeboxes. He couldn’t remember in which one he’d hidden his emergency stash, so he had to open all of them.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked from behind.

“Looking for something.” Castiel rummaged through two other boxes until he found the little plastic bag holding his stash. He’d stored this bit for moments like this; he’d left the rest of his stash back at Chuck’s. “Found it.”

“You keep your pot in a shoebox.”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t know that about you.”

Castiel stretched out his legs and traded the bag for the glass of water in Dean’s hand. In one swing, Castiel gulped down half of it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thanks.” He went to set the glass on his nightstand. “I was hoping you’d smoke with me?”

Dean crossed his arms. “The world’s ending. Why the hell not?”

Castiel beamed. It’d been weeks since Dean had smoked with him, and it just hadn’t been the same without him.

Castiel rolled out a joint and they went out to their back porch. They sat on their lawn chairs, passing the joint between them. The night was quiet and the sky was peppered with stars, their glow undisturbed. The angels had arrived and they were only getting started. Castiel wondered if there would be any stars left when they were done.

Dean took a hit. “I was meaning to ask. How was it living with Chuck?”

“Not bad,” Castiel said, taking the joint from Dean. “We got into a routine. We smoked together a lot. The couch was uncomfortable, that’s for sure, but I can’t really complain. Chuck’s the perfect roommate.”

“He doesn’t leave his dirty socks in the bathroom until they get wet and moldy?” Dean asked pointedly.

Castiel scoffed. “Oh, please, look who’s talking. You leave the dirty dishes for days without bothering to clean them.”

“At least I don’t snore.”

“Wear fucking earmuffs. I bought you some, but you never used them.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Those things are too tight. Try wearing them for once, see how you like them.”

Castiel laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Don’t laugh at me.”

Castiel laughed harder, throwing his head back and sinking lower on his chair.

“Fine. Keep laughing.” Dean was fighting back a smile.

Castiel’s laughter simmered down after a while, but he kept his smile on his face. The magic of weed. “If you think about it, we’re each other’s worst roommates. We both prefer cooking, and we both hate doing the dishes. We don’t like the same TV shows, but we always want to use the same television. And I hate singing, but you always sing along to every song.”

“You’re not that bad,” Dean said after a beat of silence. “I love your cooking, so no complaints there. And you don’t like my beer, but you always make sure there’s some in the fridge. When you come in the room and steal the TV to watch _How to Get Away with Murder_ , I complain, but I actually like that show. It was really strange not having you around, Cas. All I had left to remember you by was your chair, but then it lost your scent.”

The afternoon when Castiel had showed up for his uniforms, Dean had mentioned Castiel’s smell not being the same. It hadn’t occurred to Castiel that Dean missed his scent around the house. The thought sent a pang of guilt to his gut for the way he’d behaved that day.

“I missed everything about being home,” Castiel said in earnest. “Yes, Chuck was easy to live with, but it’s no fun having no one to argue with.”

Dean chuckled. “We _are_ pretty good at that, aren’t we?”

“Oh, yeah.”

A beat of comfortable silence passed between them. Castiel put out the joint on a little ashtray and went back to staring at the stars.

“What else did Ben tell you about the angels?” Dean asked, breaking the silence.

“Well, he said that the angels were sent to earth to take the lives of every human they deem sinful enough for murder,” Castiel said, sighing deeply. “To my understanding, the angels judge a person’s actions based first on their occupations, and then on any past deeds. I don’t understand why our therapist had to be brutally killed, but I doubt there’s any logical explanation. Ben seemed to think that the angels are just having fun with the task, not really bothering to check the quality of the people being killed.”

As if things couldn’t get any worse.

“Did Ben tell you how long this mass murder would last?” Dean asked, giving Castiel a sideways glance.

Castiel shook his head. “He thinks this is just the beginning of a long, slow destruction. He said it was almost the opposite of the biblical rapture. All of the ‘good’ people get to stay on earth, while the sinners die.”

“Great plan, wonder who came up with it.”

“Ben said God commanded it,” Castiel said, shifting on his chair to face Dean. “I don’t know what to believe, though.”

“What, you don’t think God wanted this?” Dean asked. “Didn’t he wipe out humanity a few times before?”

“The flood was his last wipe out of humanity,” Castiel said. “I’m a little rusty on my Sunday school knowledge, but this doesn’t sound like the biblical apocalypse.”

“We’re fucked either way,” Dean said.

Castiel didn’t know how to answer that.

Later on, when the night got cold, they went to bed. Castiel stayed on his side, and Dean stayed on his, leaving a foot of space between them. It was strange for Castiel to lay on his own bed again, but a good strange, since his body became comfortable almost instantly.

In the darkness of the room, he could make out Dean’s silhouette beside him. His husband. His friend. Dean had surprised him tonight. He hadn’t once raised his voice. He hadn’t lost his temper. Instead, he’d been understanding and comforting. Dean was a good man. But there was a distance between them now, one that Castiel didn’t know how to breach. Letting Dean back in meant breaking down the walls he’d worked so hard to build up. Castiel wasn’t ready for that, especially not now.

But he wanted to be ready. So badly.

Castiel lay there with his eyes closed, heavy with sleep, but not succumbing to it yet. Castiel could hear Dean’s even breathing, and the sound of it was soothing in the dark. He was certain Dean was already asleep, but then his voice filled the room. It came out soft, barely above a whisper.

“Cas?”

“Hmm?” Castiel kept his eyes closed.

“You think we got any chance of fixing our marriage now that the winged sons of bitches started the apocalypse?”

Castiel took a moment to ponder that question. It seemed so long ago when they went to see their counselor, when Castiel took off his wedding ring in front of Dean. Ironically, the fight led them to their safety.

When Castiel spoke, his voice was quiet, “Our marriage isn’t broken.”

Silence. And then, “Isn’t it?”

“We’re not broken, just bent.”

“You’re seriously quoting Pink lyrics?”

“I didn’t think you’d catch that.”

“You played that song on repeat for three weeks straight.”

“It’s a good song.”

Soft laughter came from Dean, and Castiel let himself smile again.

Sometime after that, Castiel found a heavy sleep.

 

*******

 

Dean was in the middle of cooking breakfast—scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns, the holy trinity—when Castiel strutted into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. He was still clad in his boxers and Jurassic Park t-shirt and his hair was a wonderful mess. The sight was endearing, to say the least.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean said, sliding the eggs onto the two plates he’d set out on the counter.

Castiel groaned, taking a seat at the table and slumping ungracefully.

For a second, Dean couldn’t believe the joy radiating inside of him at being able to see Castiel first thing in the morning again. Even with his usual morning grumpiness, having Castiel back home was amazing. Why the hell did he tell him to go in the first place? Dean wanted to made amends for so many things, but forcing Castiel to leave their home was at the top of the list.

Dean figured breakfast was a good start.

“I’m making coffee,” Dean said, setting the plates on the table. “You need some Tylenol for the headache?”

Castiel stared up at Dean, squinting his eyes as though Dean was made of light and Castiel needed sunglasses. “How do you know I have a headache?”

“You slept, what, four hours? You get headaches when you don’t sleep enough.” Dean waited for Castiel to deny this fact, but he didn’t. “I’ll get you the Tylenol.”

Breakfast consisted of Dean eating slowly as he watched Castiel fidget uncomfortably in his seat, poking at his hash browns. The pills took a while to kick in, but Dean could tell when they finally did, because it was when Castiel started eating. After that, it was mostly smooth sailing. They shared a few words about all they had to pack for their trip and all the stops they had to make before leaving to Houston: Chuck’s, the Roadhouse, Quick-Trip.

“I had an appointment with Anna today,” Castiel said, sipping his coffee. Castiel looked at Dean through his lashes, barely letting him see the blue in his eyes.

“What do you mean? Anna’s coming to Texas?”

“No, uh, she sent me an e-mail, letting me know that we had to schedule an appointment for a phone call.” Castiel wore a thin smile. “She’s a busy person, of course. I agreed to call her on Saturday. Today. I’m really disappointed that I can’t send any telepathic messages to her right now.”

“I always told you we should have delved into witchcraft,” Dean said, chewing on his bacon.

“I don’t think witches have that power,” Castiel said, resting his cheek on his hand. “Now that we know angels exist, what else do you think is out there?”

Dean hadn’t taken the time to consider anything beyond the angels bringing their wrath on earth, but Castiel was onto something. If angels were real, then their demonic counterparts had to be real too. But if the traditionally good guy angels were causing this destruction, then Dean didn’t want to know what demons could do.

“You know, this topic makes me uneasy,” Dean said, squirming in his seat.

Castiel looked at him for a moment. “Is it because of the explosion from yesterday?”

Dean met his eyes, blinking. The fire in that parking lot had brought back so many unfortunate memories, but he’d fought to control his instant panic. It had taken a lot, but Dean had managed it. He’d hoped that Castiel hadn’t noticed anything off about him, but apparently, he was just as observant as always.

“That wasn’t great,” Dean said, playing it down. Seeing the fire so close and smelling the dark smoke emitting from it had put him back in that beautiful two story house in Lawrence, Kansas, when he’d ran out with his little brother by the hand. When their dad had ordered them to leave while he went back for their mom. When neither of their parents ever came back out. When the fire had swallowed them whole.

“Dean.” Castiel reached over the table to place his hand over Dean’s, a light touch that weighed more than words. “You don’t have to be brave for me.”

“I know,” Dean said. Staring into Castiel’s eyes was too intense for the moment, so Dean looked at their hands on the table. Dean couldn’t help but notice that he was the only one wearing a wedding ring. It hurt to see that, but he had to let it go.

“I’ll wear my ring again,” Castiel said. Sometimes it was like Castiel could read minds.

Dean widened his eyes. “No, Cas—”

“I was stupid,” Castiel said, removing his hand from Dean’s. “I thought that if I took it off, everything would start making sense again. But ever since I took it off, the world has been quite literally falling apart. I think I might be better off wearing it. Besides, I don’t want to risk losing it since we’ll be on the road for a few days.”

“Okay,” Dean said. “But only wear it if you want to. A ring doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

Castiel softened his eyes at that, but he was quiet for the rest of the morning.

After breakfast, they packed everything they needed for the road and stuffed it into the Impala—they’d both decided to take one car this time, without a fight, even—and they set out to Chuck’s.

 

*******

 

Castiel and Dean waited outside Chuck’s apartment. Kevin answered the door wearing Chuck’s robe. That was a bit off, considering Chuck only had the one robe and he never went without it.

“Hey, Kev, I’m just here to pick up my things,” Castiel said. “Dean and I are heading out for a few days, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just grab them and go.”

Castiel stepped inside with Dean trailing behind. The living room was as neat as Castiel had left it, and the couch was obviously not slept in. Not that Castiel was nosey, but he was very curious at the moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kevin asked, scowling. “I just woke up. Don’t judge me.”

“Where’s Chuck?” Castiel asked.

“Sleeping,” Kevin said, yawning. “Which is what I want to keep doing, so if you could hurry this up, that would be peachy.”

“Cas, I found your suitcase,” Dean said, holding it up. “What else do you need to put in here?”

“My stash is on the coffee table,” Castiel said, keeping his eyes on Kevin. A slow grin spread of his face. “The couch doesn’t look slept in. Were you sleeping in the room?”

Kevin scoffed. “No. Yes. Why does it matter?”

“Did you sleep with Chuck last night?” Castiel couldn’t believe he’d missed something so obviously clear.

Kevin spread out his arms. “Well, yeah. It _just_ happened. You were living with him, and you were always at work. Kinda made things harder for me.”

“This explains so much,” Castiel said, laughing. “All this time I thought you were just teasing me, but you were jealous because I was keeping Chuck away from you. Dean, are you hearing this? Chuck and Kevin got together. I’m so proud.”

Dean shuffled beside Castiel, carrying the heavy suitcase. “That’s great, congratulations. Cas, we should really get going. We still have two more stops.”

“Damn, I wish I could say bye to Chuck personally,” Castiel said. “Kev, will you please tell him I’m so grateful for his hospitability and for being just a generally kind person. Seriously, you hit the lottery with that guy. Take care of him, and of yourself.”

Kevin hesitated before he pulled Castiel into a hug. It didn’t last long, but Castiel couldn’t stop smiling over the gesture. “Good luck on your travels, both of you.”

Dean nodded. “See you, man.”

They made it to the Roadhouse in record time. Apparently in a hurry, Dean drove twice as fast on the busy streets of their town. The sights weren’t pleasant for the most part. Castiel counted five dead bodies on the ground, two covered up with blankets, and three completely exposed. A few houses had been demolished here and there, the rubble filling up the sidewalks, and a few cars abandoned on the road, with the doors hanging open and personal items surrounding them. It was as though everything forgotten stood in a frozen frame, a sharp contrast with the quick motion around.

There were a lot of cars on the road today, which wasn’t surprising. People were in dire need to escape, hoping for a safer place to be. Castiel wished he had any guarantee that they would find any safety, even once they found their siblings. _If_ they found them. They would find them, right? The uncertainty was unbearable.

The Roadhouse was packed once again. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Ellen and Bobby still hadn’t left. Dean was the first to approach them and explain the reason they were leaving on such a rush. Bobby wasn’t too pleased with their plan, but Ellen sided with them and her leniency helped Bobby relent. It was sweet that Bobby still wanted to protect Dean after all these years.

“Take care of my son,” Bobby said, pulling Castiel aside. “I understand you’re going to New York once you find Sam, so if you’re going back north after you hit Houston, come find me. I’ll be here. I need to know you found Sam and Jessica in one piece. Can I trust you with this, Castiel?”

Castiel nodded solemnly. “Of course you can. I’ll make sure to come back here once we find Sam and Jess. And I’ll keep Dean safe with my life.”

Bobby clapped Castiel’s shoulder. “I always knew you were the right choice for that boy. You’re going to be okay, son. Trust in each other.”

Castiel set eyes on Dean as he talked to Charlie and Jo. There was a tension in Dean that Castiel wished to relieve, but he knew that things were fragile between them and he had to tread carefully. Unconsciously, Castiel touched his wedding band, now that he was wearing it again. “I trust him.”

After saying his goodbyes to everyone, Dean approached him, touching a hand to Castiel’s arm. “We have a slight change of plans.”

“What is it?” Castiel asked carefully.

“I’m tagging along,” Charlie said, appearing beside Dean.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure about this? We don’t know how long we’ll be on the road, or how safe it will be. I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“I’m an adult, Cas,” Charlie said. “You don’t have to worry about me. I want to go because someone I love lives in Austin, and I need to find her. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

Castiel crossed his arms, his eyes flicking from Charlie to Dean. “You think this is a good idea?”

“I already said yes,” Dean said.

“Without consulting me?”

“It’s my car,” Dean said.

Castiel pinched the bridge of his nose. Dean loved to pull that card. If Castiel had known it would be this way, he would have argued to bring his truck instead. “Okay, sure. But if I don’t think it’s safe for Charlie, we’re turning the car around.”

“Hey, dude, I’m not a child,” Charlie protested. “It’s rude to talk about me as if I’m not standing right in front of you. Do I need to sign some kind of waiver to make you feel better?”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, pulling Charlie into his arms. “I just don’t want to risk your safety. But at least I’ll know where you are if you come with us.” He let her go. “Do you have everything you need?”

“All taken care of,” Charlie said, pointing to the luggage next to a table. “I was planning on leaving this morning too, but I figured traveling in a group was safer.”

“You’re right,” Castiel said. When he looked at Dean, he caught the annoyance in his green eyes. Not the best way to start the day.

“Let’s go,” Dean said, helping Charlie with her bags.

 

 

 

Castiel had his head pressed against the Impala’s cold window, feeling the lingering effects of his morning headache. He was so tired, but there was no time to sleep. He had to stay awake in case anything went wrong. When Dean stopped at a gas station, there was a long line of cars. It took an hour to access a gas pump, but the only way to pay for the gas was with a card since there were no employees inside the store. It was starting to feel like the end of days.

While Dean filled up the tank, Castiel and Charlie remained inside the Impala, listening to Dean’s old Ramones cassette tape. Another reason why Castiel regretted not putting up a fight about taking his truck. At least he had more variety in music. Dean was such an avid classic rock fan. It had been endearing at first—many things about Dean had been endearing at first—but lately, Castiel couldn’t stand Dean’s music. He’d brought it up during some of their old fights because it really hit a nerve with Dean. Complaining about it now would probably make the trip more dreadful, and at least for Charlie’s sake, they had to keep the peace.

“Did you guys make up last night?” Charlie asked, as if reading Castiel’s mind. “You’ve both been polite with each other, but almost too polite. I can’t read you too well.”

Castiel twisted on the passenger seat to glance at Charlie in the backseat. He grinned. “We talked and got high. You might be able to call it progress.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “You two are unbelievable. Why do you keep pretending you’re okay with this distance between you? I can tell how miserable it makes both of you.”

“I’m not miserable,” Castiel said, furrowing his brows. “I’m tired, yes, I haven’t slept, but—”

“Yeah, sure. When was the last time you had sex?”

Castiel closed his mouth. It was sad that he knew exactly how long ago he’d had sex with Dean. “Over a month ago. Okay, it’s been forty-three days.”

Charlie scoffed. “You see? This is clearly bothering you. Don’t you think Dean feels the same way?”

Castiel looked out the window at Dean, who was still pumping gas, oblivious to the conversation he was having with Charlie. It was such an out of place conversation that Castiel almost felt like it wasn’t really happening. But it was. Castiel had thought about this small issue for a long time. If Dean did the same, he knew how to hide it well.

“A lot of our arguments ended with sex,” Castiel said, finally. “They didn’t make anything better. It was good, but in the morning, neither of us were happy. We were both still angry in some ways. It felt wrong. That’s why we stopped trying.”

Before Charlie could say anything else, Dean climbed back into the car. Offering each of them an easy grin, Dean turned the engine on and hit the road.


	5. Broken People and Bones

They made it to Austin in over six hours, due to traffic. Dean had never seen so much traffic on the freeways before. The entire state seemed to be fleeing south due to the highly inconvenient angel destructions. Not only did Dean have to sit in traffic in the Texas heat, listening to Castiel and Charlie have long conversations over their favorite TV shows, but he also had to endure the anxiety of seeing bodies descending from the sky here and there, and the occasional car explosion. It was a miracle he could even keep driving on these roads. These occurrences were completely random and erratic, so it never stopped startling him when he saw another death so suddenly. The moments in between sometimes were long enough that Dean could make himself forget their current situation.

Dean had been keeping an eye out for other angels, but he hadn’t seen even the slightest hint of another winged bastard. Whoever was giving them their orders had clearly told them to keep a low profile. For good reason, probably. Although, if the angels were hiding, it could be because they feared that humans would fight back. Dean pondered long and hard on the possibility of killing one of those sons of bitches. It was the only thing keeping him grounded.

As they neared the neighborhood where Charlie’s friend lived, she started telling them about who it was she had risked her life to find.

“Her name’s Catrina,” Charlie said, moving closer to the gap between the back and front seat. “She was my closest friend in high school. I loved her, and she loved me, but not in the same way. When I lost my mom, she was the only light in my life. I never felt alone with her. After college, I moved up north, but we never lost touch. I always meant to drive down to visit her again, but I never got around to it. I’ve always kept her separate from every other part of my life, that’s why I’ve never mentioned her before. Now I just need to know she’s safe.”

“I always wondered why you kept looking up restaurants in Austin,” Dean said.

“I wanted to be prepared,” Charlie said. “I wanted my visit to be perfect, and I was going to wait until the right time, but that time never came. I hate that I waited so long.”

“We’ll find her,” Castiel said.

Dean hoped they did, too.

But the mood changed as soon as Dean pulled up in front of a pile of rubble. A fragmented house in a neighborhood that had already felt the wrath of the angels.

They’d made it right before sunset. The sky was a beautiful blend of warm colors that looked so contradictory to the mess on earth.

There was silence in the car as they all stared out the windows. It was somehow impossible to move, to breathe, knowing that a life had been lost to the whim of an angry God and his herd of angels. Dean didn’t think he could hate something as much as he hated them. In fact, they were right up there with Castiel’s bastard of a father.

“Charlie,” Castiel said softly.

“She was a therapist,” Charlie said, her voice unwavering. Her wide eyes and clenched fists were the only sign she had processed what was in front of her. “As soon as I heard from Dean that your counselor was killed, I thought of Catrina. I wondered…I wondered if maybe the angels had it out for therapists.”

“Why on earth are therapists considered sinners?” Dean asked out loud, not really looking for an answer.

“Why is anyone?” Castiel said. “It seems to me that the angels are looking for a quick excuse to kill us. Therapists earn a lot of money from listening to people’s problems. That might be easily judged as greediness, and if you stretch it, deceptiveness.”

_My brother is a criminal defense attorney_ , Dean wanted to say. _He keeps real criminals from going to prison. What does that make him?_

But that was too much for Dean to deal with at the moment. First, he had to be a friend to Charlie. She looked strong, but Dean knew her, had known her for years, and her rigid demeanor didn’t fool him.

“Do you want to step outside?” Dean asked. “We can look around, maybe we’ll find—”

“No, Dean. I just want to go.”

Dean nodded. “Sure. I get it.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” Castiel said.

“I’m sorry, too,” Charlie said, finally taking her eyes off of the house that was not a house anymore.

“Dean, let me drive,” Castiel said.

Dean looked at him, trying to figure out the inscrutable look in his eyes. And then he realized why there was fear in them. They were going to drive to Sam’s house next, and there was no way of knowing how Dean would react if they found Sam’s house in the same state. The fact that this was a very real possibility was making Dean shudder. And suddenly, he was panicking. Sam and Jess were dead already, weren’t they? Why would their lives be spared?

Dean was not prepared to lose his baby brother. Dean was not prepared to lose Sam. Or Jess, who was sweet and charming and the closest thing he’d ever had to a sister. The night of the fire was so vivid in his mind now. Dean ran to safety with his baby brother, and he’d worked so hard all his life to keep him safe.

Sam wasn’t safe anymore.

“Dean, Dean, look at me.” Castiel had Dean’s face in his hands, holding him still. “Listen to me. I’m right here. We’re fine. All of us are fine. We’re going to find Sam and Jess alive. You have to calm down, okay? I’m going to drive, but if I see you this way, I won’t be able to keep my eyes on the road, and I want to make sure we make it there in one piece.”

Dean concentrated on Castiel’s face, the growing stubble and eye crinkles that made him so familiar. The intense gaze of his blue eyes never left him. Dean swallowed and cringed with the dryness of it.

“Here’s some water.” Charlie offered a water bottle from the backseat.

Dean drank some water. “Thanks,” he said when he found his voice again. And when he felt ready, he traded places with Castiel, scooting easily down the seat as Castiel maneuvered himself over him. They’d done this plenty of times before, the switching of seats. Another slight comfort of familiarity.

The drive to Sam’s felt eternal. They were stuck in traffic for another four hours, which gave Dean enough time to think a bit more rationally. Mostly, he just tried not to get ahead of himself and assume the worst. Sam was a big guy, and he knew how to defend himself. Then again, the angels weren’t the type to grant people a fighting chance. Shit. He was back to the negative thoughts.

Instead of Sam, Dean focused on Charlie. Her voice was soft and soothing in the night as she shared stories about work. Being a nurse led her to some interesting, and sometimes disturbing, encounters with people. Dean smiled to himself as she told them about the time a man walked in with a fork stuck to his back as a result of a food fight gone wrong.

“Dean, do you remember the day we met?” Charlie asked, and suddenly her hand was on his shoulder.

Dean turned on his seat to smile at her. Just the sight of her made him feel calm again. “We were at the same comic book store,” Dean said, holding her gaze. “I asked the guy at the counter if they had the new Wonder Woman comic, and they said they only had one copy left but it was already taken, and then he pointed at this geeky redhead wearing a neon yellow sweater and these thick-rimmed blue glasses. I walked right up to you and I said—”

“You said, ‘Excuse me, I really want that comic book. I know you don’t know me, but I have a great need.’ And I said, ‘Okay, weirdo, you give a compelling argument, but sorry, no dice.’”

Dean threw his head back in laughter. “And then I gave you my number and asked you to let me borrow it when you were done reading it. You never once thought I was hitting on you.”

“Well, of course not,” Charlie said. “Guys that hit on me are never that polite. Besides, you looked harmless. I had a good feeling about you the moment you walked up to me. You had this weird sort of golden horned amulet and an eyebrow piercing. I thought you were someone who knew how to accessorize.”

Castiel laughed as he exited the freeway. “You had an eyebrow piercing?”

Dean shook his head in Charlie’s direction. “You swore you’d never talk about that.”

“He wore eyeliner sometimes, too,” Charlie said, beaming.

Dean groaned. “I burned all of the pictures. There’s no proof of this. It’s my word against hers.”

“I can’t believe this,” Castiel said, laughing breathlessly. “Oh man, what I would give to go back in time and see you like that.”

Charlie looked at Dean’s chest with narrowed eyes. “You stopped wearing that freaky amulet. Whatever happened to it?”

“I gave it to Sam when he moved to Houston with Jess,” Dean said. The mention of Sam erased any trace of lightheartedness that had been previously present. Now Dean felt a cold weight pressing on his chest, leaving him breathless.

They were close.

 

*******

 

Not ten minutes later, Castiel drove straight to Sam’s neighborhood. It was a small street with a cul-de-sac at the end. The houses were all boring two-story copies of each other, hardly varying in style or color. It was a cookie cutter neighborhood, but it was exactly what Sam had wanted to achieve. And Dean had no right to judge him, especially when Dean’s idea of a perfect life was living in white picket fence house with Castiel and their children. Growing up, neither of them had had much of a normal life, so this was their way of making up for it.

The car slowed down as it reached the end of the street, where Sam’s house was supposed to be. It was too dark to see anything at first, but as they got closer, the headlights illuminated the house that was no more.

Dean’s heart stopped. It just stopped. And then he was out of his car—which was still moving—and he was running. Dean ran until his knees gave out and he stopped in front of the rubble that was his baby brother’s house. Dean’s mouth opened with a silent sob and he reached for the broken pieces around him. He picked them up and tossed them aside and his hands were shaking violently, which made the process harder. In a moment of clarity, he figured if he dug hard enough, he would find Sam and Jess and he would rescue them in the way they hadn’t been able to rescue anyone before. Dean would save them because he desperately wanted to.

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice came from behind. Too quiet. Broken, in the same way Dean was broken.

Castiel spoke like he knew the truth. Of everything.

They were all going to end up under a pile of rubble and there was no way to stop it.

“No,” Dean said, digging his knees further on the gravel of the sidewalk. “Sam’s not dead. Sam and Jess are alive, Cas. I know they are. Help me move this.” Dean continued shoving the pieces aside, digging and digging until his fingers were bleeding.

“Dean,” Charlie said, and suddenly she was beside him, holding his hands still. She was crying and Dean couldn’t understand why. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“NO!” Dean shouted. “No, you don’t get to cry about this. Sam isn’t dead. Jess isn’t dead. We’re going to find them. Cas, you said we’d find them. You need to help me find them. You promised. You…”

Castiel fell to his knees beside Dean, his lower lip trembling. He was fighting so hard to hold back his tears, but he eventually lost the fight. And he looked away from Dean with nothing to say.

“I can do this alone,” Dean said, standing up in one motion. He wasn’t going to waste any time arguing with Castiel or Charlie. He wasn’t going to waste any time crying over people who were not dead. He was going to find them.

Dean continued digging despite the sharp pain in his hands. “SAM! JESS!” he screamed in a booming voice that reached the entire neighborhood. “SAM! JESS!” Dean continued digging, jumping over the mess to get closer to the center of it all. He had to find some sign that they were here. They could be alive. They could still be alive.

Dean wouldn’t let them die.

“SAM! JESS!” Dean shouted again, letting their names burn his lungs.

“Dean,” Castiel called from the middle of the street.

“No, no, I’m not listening to you,” Dean said. “I need to find them. You don’t want to help me. I’m doing this without you.”

“Dean,” Castiel called again. “I found something.”

Dean’s head snapped in Castiel’s direction, and then he was tripping over the broken pieces to get to Castiel.

In his hands, Castiel was holding the horned amulet Dean had given to Sam. It was intact, and it was a good distance from the house. Dean snatched it from his hands, looking back at the shattered house. Sam wasn’t trapped inside. He’d managed to escape. There was no other explanation. Sam had escaped and he was alive.

Charlie was looking at him. “I’ll knock door to door.”

Dean nodded, hanging the amulet around his neck. “I’ll take the car.”

“You can’t drive like this,” Castiel said, reaching for Dean’s hands. They were a bloodied mess and still shaking.

Charlie was already knocking on the first standing house. Not many people were home, but the few that were hadn’t seen Sam or Jess.

Dean closed his eyes and winced from the pain. “Okay, you drive.”

“We’ll be right back, Charlie,” Castiel said before getting in the car.

They drove down the streets nearby, repeating the same process Charlie was doing. It was futile. They went through hundreds of houses, but they didn’t find either Sam or Jess. Despite this, Dean held out hope. He was certain that they were still alive somewhere. Dean had never been more sure of this.

It took a lot of convincing, but eventually, Dean agreed to return back to Charlie. They’d looked through all the houses within a five-mile radius, and it wasn’t safe for Charlie to be on her own. The drive back to Sam’s street was silent, aside from the loud roar of the Impala. Dean had too much on his mind to talk. Dean was grateful that Castiel didn’t force conversation between them.

Charlie sat on the sidewalk, hiding in the warmth of her hoodie. She looked half her age, and Dean felt guilty for leaving her alone so long.

“Nothing?” Charlie asked in vain.

Dean shook his head.

Charlie got back in the car and Castiel turned the car around. Before they reached the end of the street, Dean saw a lone figure in the side mirror. It was barely visible in the night, but it was unmistakably human.

“Stop the car,” Dean snapped.

Castiel hit the brakes, sending everyone forward on their seats.

“There’s someone here,” Dean said. “Turn the car around.”

Castiel followed suit. As they approached the figure, Dean noticed the dry bloodstains all over their clothes. And at closer inspection, he realized it was a woman. A blonde woman with bruises on her face.

“Jess,” Dean gasped.

Castiel jerked to another stop as Dean threw the door open and ran toward her.

Jess looked startled at the sight of Dean, and she looked near panicked when he embraced her, but then she slightly relaxed, looking from Dean to Castiel to Charlie.

“Where’s Sammy?” Dean asked. “What happened? I saw the house. Are you okay? Why are you covered in blood?”

Jess looked pale, and her eyes were wandering. “Come with me before he returns.” She motioned to the sky, and none of them asked for further explanations.

They all followed Jess into a house in the same street. She held the door open for everyone, and then she quickly locked it behind them. She didn’t turn on any of the lights as she led them down to the basement. This time, she flipped the light switch, igniting a bright orange glow.

As they walked down the stairs, Dean could hear his heart from how fast it was racing. There was something wrong here. Something very wrong. Where was Sam? Why was Jess acting so weird?

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, Dean saw Sam sprawled on an old, dirty couch, caked in blood. Sam was unconscious, with his long brown hair sticking to his head from the sweat. There were bruises on his face as well, and one of his eyelids was purple and twice its size. Sam was shirtless, and one of his arms was wrapped up in gauze. There was gauze on the floor and what looked like an ointment to clean the wound. But nothing was as gruesome as his right leg, which was uncovered on the couch. It was impossibly bent to the side, clearly broken.

“I was cleaning the cut on his arm, but I can’t do anything about his leg,” Jess said, her voice hollow as she crouched in front of Sam’s legs. “I heard the Impala. I thought I’d lost my mind, but I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I didn’t check to be sure. Sam’s been knocked out for hours. I don’t know what else to do.”

“They did this to him?” Dean asked, going over to stand beside Jess, forcing himself to look away from Sam’s leg.

“They came early in the morning,” Jess said, shivering. “We ran out as soon as we saw one coming. It chased us down the street, played with us. It kept throwing us to the ground time and time again, and then I looked over and Sam was on the floor, and his leg was broken. Then something happened. The angel left us alone. I managed to drag Sam into this house. But then…”

“Then what, Jess?” Castiel asked.

Jess swallowed, proceeding to clean Sam’s leg. Sam was so out of it, he didn’t even flinch. “Something was in the house. It guided me to the basement and then it appeared. A tall blond man. He…he said he would help us. He promised us safety from the angels in this house. He said there were blockers protecting us, things the angels couldn’t cross, so long as we stayed in here.”

“Who was he?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow.

Jess shrugged. “I didn’t ask. I took him up on his offer. I gave him the last thing I had. He said Sam would live through this. I expected him to be healed by now, but I was naïve to trust in that thing.”

“What did you give him, Jess?” Dean asked.

Jess looked Dean over her shoulder. “My soul.”

Dean gaped at her, waiting for the punchline of the joke that wasn’t funny at all. But the seriousness in Jess was a frightening indicator she wasn’t joking. He opened his mouth, but words wouldn’t come out.

“I can try to set the bone back in place,” Charlie said, kneeling beside Jess. “It looks like a clean break. Is there any alcohol?”

“Maybe in the upstairs bathroom,” Jess said, flushing. “I haven’t left the basement. I’m afraid it’ll find us if I move. It took everything out of me going outside just now.”

“I’ll go check,” Castiel said, already leaving.

Dean let out a deep sigh. “How long has he been out?”

“About three hours,” Jess said, brushing some of the sweaty hair off of Sam’s face. “He was angry I’d made the deal. He said we’d find another way. But there was no other way. The angel was outside, waiting for us. And that man, he stopped the angel from killing us out there. It kept us safe all the way here. I thought it would kill us. I did what I had to do.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Dean said, touching her shoulder. “My brother needs you now more than ever.”

Jess put on a smile for Dean, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m just so tired. We stayed up all night yesterday, making sure we survived the night. I told him we should go, but Sam refused to move because he was sure you’d come looking for him. And I told him maybe we would find you on the road, but he was stubborn. I still can’t believe you’re here. Thank you for coming, Dean.”

“You’re my family, Jess,” Dean said. “Of course I had to come.”

As soon as Castiel returned with the alcohol, Charlie got to work. Setting the bone in place was easier said than done. A few moments after Charlie got started, Sam woke with a start, screaming in pain. According to Charlie, the leg wasn’t entirely shattered, and she tried to make a good enough cast out of gauze, but she had no guarantees it would heal normally. She went on a spiel about needing an x-ray in order to really see the fracture, which they all knew, but it wasn’t like they had any way to get Sam to a hospital when angels were out to get him. Despite everything, Charlie made sure the leg didn’t look half as bad when she was done with it, and even Sam looked a bit more at ease afterwards.

“How are you holding up, Sammy?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” Sam gasped, cringing as he shifted slightly on the couch. “You made it.”

“Don’t strain yourself,” Dean said, putting a hand to Sam’s forehead. “You’re burning up. Can he take any pain killers? I’ll bring you some cold water.”

“No, stay here,” Sam said, shivering. “I’m alright.”

“I found Advil upstairs,” Castiel said. “And here’s some water.”

Dean was grateful to see Castiel two steps ahead of them, and he accepted everything, rushing to give them to Sam. Dean watched as Sam took the pills and drank enough water to hydrate him. He remembered doing this as kids, but it was never as dreadful as this moment.

Sam pressed his eyes shut, and then he opened them again, looking at all the faces staring back at him. He settled on staring at the ceiling. “It’s good to see all of you. Cas, Charlie, I didn’t think I’d see you guys again.”

“Your hair’s longer,” Castiel said.

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Sorry about the bone cracking,” Charlie said.

“Thank you for helping,” Sam said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, Charlie.”

“That’s because you stopped visiting,” Charlie said.

Sam snorted. “You’re right.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Why don’t we leave Sam alone to rest and heal, huh? We gotta get the bags from the car anyway.”

“I’ll stay here with him,” Jess said.

“No, Jess,” Sam said, wincing again as he turned to face her. “You should get some rest too. You’ve been by my side all day long, and you need sleep. I’ll be fine here. I’ll yell if I need anything.”

Jess frowned, brushing Sam’s sweaty hair away from his face. “I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you, do you hear me?”

Sam gave half a smile that seemed to take a lot out of him. “My hero.”

Jess pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead.

 

*******

 

After Jess had gone to shower in the upstairs bathroom, Charlie cleaned Dean’s battered hand. It wasn’t fractured, but it was full of sharp cuts and bruises. Charlie coaxed Dean into taking some painkillers as well, and then bandaged his hand despite his complaints.

While Charlie and Dean argued about the bandage, Castiel snuck downstairs to find Sam. He lay still and quiet on the couch that looked far too uncomfortable, and his long limbs hardly fit. Sam’s eyes were closed, but Castiel knew he wasn’t sleeping by the deep crease between his eyebrows. Sam opened one eye and peered at him before closing them both again and draping an arm over his eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Sam asked.

“I see I’m not the only one.” Castiel stood behind the chair next to the couch.

“It’s kinda hard to sleep when your bones are broken.”

“I can’t imagine the pain you must be feeling.”

Sam swallowed. “Don’t think about it too long.”

“I came to find you because, well, I think you’ll understand when I say our situation here can’t be permanent.” Castiel gripped the back of the chair. “You’re hurt, Dean’s hurt, and there are powerful angels on a killing spree. I’ve been thinking about this since I heard what Jess did. I want to make a deal with the same creature. I want to end it all.”

Sam lowered his arm and shot open his eyes. “You can’t be serious, Cas. You can’t make a deal with the devil, too. I’m still trying to figure out how to get Jess out of the deal she made.”

“The devil, huh?”

“I was in agonizing pain when I met him, but I know what I saw.”

Castiel nodded. “I want to summon him again. Maybe he can put an end to the angels’ destruction and heal you. We have to try. I won’t involve anyone else. I’ll give him my soul and anything else he asks for as long as he leaves my family alone.”

“Cas, please, don’t even joke about that. If Dean heard you, he’d lose his mind. Besides, do you really think the devil can stop an army of angels? It’s not just a small group, Cas. You can’t see them, but there’s an abundance of them. I can feel them. If the devil could stop them, he would have done so already. We’re on our own here.”

Castiel pondered that. Perhaps there was truth to what Sam was saying. If the devil could stop this, he would have already intervened. But isn’t that what he had done already? The devil had intervened to save Sam’s life. The devil must be desperate for souls if the angels were claiming all of them. Castiel couldn’t completely let go of the possibility of making a deal with the devil, but he would drop the subject for now.

“You’re right,” Castiel said.

Sam snorted. “Never heard you say that before. You love arguing with me and my brother.”

“You two make it so easy.”

“I’m glad you’re here together.”

Castiel smiled faintly. “Dean’s sort of stuck with me whether he likes it or not.”

“Marriage is not that binding. You’re still free to stay or go.”

“That’s true.”

“You’re really not yourself today.” Sam smiled, draping an arm over his eyes again. “I’m not used to you being so nice and agreeable.”

"Fuck you."

“Ah, there it is. Much better.”

 

*******

 

The living room was seeped in darkness.

After accompanying Jess to one of the upstairs bedrooms, Charlie decided to stay with her to make sure she actually slept. Dean and Castiel had agreed to stay in the living room in case Sam called out for help, water, or a bathroom break. They had taken turns so far in all of those tasks. But for a while, Sam hadn’t called out to them. Last time Castiel had been down there, Sam passed out in the middle of their conversation. Sam was weak, and it was awful seeing him that way.

The couch, thankfully, was a pull-out bed, so Dean and Castiel made themselves fit in it, as noisy as it was.

Castiel yawned, and the couch creaked.

Dean chuckled quietly. “This thing is shit. We might be better off sleeping on the floor.”

“You can sleep on the floor if you want,” Castiel said, trying not to move so as to not make another obnoxiously loud noise. “I’d rather suffer through the creaks.”

Dean groaned. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m just tired,” Castiel admitted. The day-long trip had taken a toll on him. Not to mention the fact that for a good few hours he was sure Sam and Jess were dead. The pain he’d felt during that short time had felt eternal. He couldn’t imagine what Dean had felt. Although Dean had never really lost hope. How did he do that? How was he so strong?

“Next time Sam calls, it’s my turn,” Dean said. “So you can sleep for now.”

Castiel turned his head, carefully, and tried to make out Dean in the darkness. He could see him from memory.

“Today you talked about the first time you met Charlie. It made me think of our first date. Do you remember?”

Dean snorted, turning his head just as slowly. “What’s not to remember? I think about it at least once a day.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I was nervous as hell. I don’t think I’ve ever been that nervous in my life. Not even when we got married.”

“But we’d been friends for a while by that time,” Castiel said.

“Yeah, and I couldn’t kiss you back then,” Dean said. “It was the hardest thing just seeing you and pretending I wasn’t dying to press you up against a wall and kiss you until I couldn’t breathe.”

A silent moment passed between them. Castiel felt warmth flooding his stomach, and he realized his heart was racing. Dean had told him this before, but Castiel still felt the same vulnerability when Dean was so honest with his emotions. The description of that desire was familiar as well, because Castiel had felt the same way for much of their friendship, but he figured Dean wasn’t interested. Why would he be? Dean was incredible, and Castiel was…he was just Castiel: cook, TV show aficionado, mountain biker, and occasional runner. There was nothing interesting about him. His life was a set of routines that got him through the day. And then Dean came into his life and introduced him to classic rock, took him on long rides on his Impala, joined him on morning runs, took him hiking, went to the movies with him whenever a new thriller came out, and Castiel learned to share his life with Dean, as friends.

They had been friends for months, and neither of them made a move on the other. It was until they were having dinner at Dean’s one afternoon that Castiel realized they had technically been dating each other for a good part of their friendship, without all the kissing and sex. Very nervously, Castiel pointed this out to Dean, mostly jokingly, and Dean just sat there blinking at Castiel with those beautiful green eyes. And then Dean asked him out on a date, a real date, and Castiel agreed way too quickly, it was embarrassing.

“I remember you picked me up at my doorstep and you showed up with coffee,” Castiel said, smiling fondly at the memory. “You knew the way to my heart right from the start.”

“You drank more coffee than the daily serving at the Roadhouse,” Dean said.

“Not relevant to the story,” Castiel said.

“Okay, okay, go on.”

“Then we went to a fancy restaurant that had really disgusting food,” Castiel said, wrinkling his nose. “I can almost taste the chewy, bitter chicken.”

“Yeah, I think they closed it down soon after our date,” Dean said.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I agreed to date you and you immediately tried to poison me. Well done.”

“I thought I was being romantic! I didn’t know the place sucked.”

“Anyway, remember since we didn’t like the food there, we went to a small Mexican restaurant near my apartment, and we ate tacos that were ten times better than that pricey place.”

“True.”

“And we got fucking wasted on margaritas.”

Dean laughed, not so quietly this time. The couch creaked in protest.

“I put a random song on the jukebox,” Castiel continued, grinning ear to ear. “And then we danced to a Spanish song that neither of us understood, in front of everyone at the restaurant.”

“They all stood around us, taking pictures,” Dean said, his laughter subsiding.

“And by the end, you tried to kiss me, but I pushed you aside and ran to throw up in the bathroom. Just made it on time.” Castiel chuckled softly. The couch creaked again. He was this close to moving over to the floor, but for now, he was too tired to move a single limb on his body.

“That’s the day I decided someday I would marry you,” Dean said after a beat of silence.

“What?” Castiel said. He’d never heard this before.

“I didn’t tell you?” Dean asked. “I thought I did.”

“No, I would remember if you had.”

“Oh, well, that’s when I knew. I hadn’t even kissed you then, but I looked at you after you came out of the bathroom, all pale and sick, and you leaned into my arms when I walked you back to the car, and you still smelled like puke, but I wanted to hold you closer.”

“That’s not fair,” Castiel whispered.

“What isn’t?”

“You’re so romantic,” Castiel said. “I could never keep up with you. I wanted to surprise you the same way you always surprised me, but I could never get it right. You were thoughtful all the time. You’re thoughtful now, telling me this. I’m—I’m not—”

“You’re you, Cas,” Dean said, just above a whisper. “I didn’t want you to be like me. Do you think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with a copy of me? I never wanted that. Right from the start, I knew who you were, and I liked you just like that. You always expressed yourself better in other ways, anyway.”

Castiel flushed, though he wasn’t sure why. It was a strange feeling, but he liked it. Something he’d lost with the numbness. A lot of things he’d lost were coming back to him. Like the fluttering in his stomach, the beating of his excited heart.

Castiel reached for Dean’s hand under the covers, and once he found it, he laced their fingers together. With his thumb, he rubbed the back of Dean’s hand soothingly.

Cringing before it happened, Castiel moved to his side, drifting closer to Dean. The couch was as loud as ever. They were close enough now that he could feel Dean’s breath on his cheek, and Castiel aimed to be even closer. He moved his free hand to brush Dean’s cheek, and he traced the freckles from memory. Then he moved to Dean’s lips with the tips of his fingers, letting the quickening warm breath wash over them. A hand was on Castiel’s waist, with a gentle grip, pulling him closer.

“Dean!”

The call came from the basement. Sam.

“Cas!”

Castiel swallowed, pulling away, rolling to his back. He ran a hand through his face, letting out a long breath.

Dean laughed exasperatedly as he fumbled with the sheets to climb out of the couch, making a ruckus all the while. “Coming!” he called to Sam. “Go to sleep,” he said to Castiel as he walked past. “I got it from here.”

Castiel stayed still as he heard Dean move down to the basement. He waited until his heart slowed down to close his eyes again and attempt to sleep.


	6. Flame II

Somehow, Anna had gotten lucky.

Things like this didn’t usually happen to her, but maybe the gods were taking pity on her.

In her possession was now a fully functioning motorcycle. It was a black cruiser, that’s all she knew about it. But she knew how to drive it.

Anna didn’t steal it, but she didn’t purchase it either. If the owner was still alive, then she wished him well wherever he had disappeared.

It was during another stop that she saw the rifle. It was unbelievable. So many incredible things were suddenly at her disposal. Yes, it was at the risk of her exposure, but so far, nothing had defeated her.

The angels were after her.

They had an eye on her, but she was fast, and she wasn’t the only human they had to take care of. It was tricky to lose them, but not impossible. She had learned how to keep them distracted.

With the rifle, though, she could try new things.

It was then that she saw her.

A young woman, hiding in the alley a few feet behind the rifle, illuminated by the orange glow of a lamplight. She was short and thin, but she looked intimidating underneath that leather jacket. Long dreads flowed at her sides, and her dark brown eyes peered directly at her. They locked eyes, and then the woman’s eyes flickered to the rifle.

It was a challenge. Anna liked it.

“Go ahead,” she said to the woman. “Take it.”

“No,” the woman said. “It’s yours.”

Anna smiled. “Yes, it is.”

“Stop.” The woman took a couple of steps forward, exposing the gun in her hands.

Anna took a step back, raising her hands to show she was unarmed. Aside from the knives she had strapped to her boots, she was unarmed.

“The rifle is yours,” the woman said, still pointing the gun. “On one condition.”

Anna smiled again. “Name it.”

“Take me with you.”

“I don’t have a destination.”

“I don’t care.”

Anna narrowed her eyes. It was then that she saw the change in the woman’s eyes. They went from normal brown eyes, to a full black, right down to the cornea. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, but it didn’t take long to understand what she was seeing.

Not human.

Not angel.

“Demon?” she guessed.

“I like to be called Raejean,” the woman said. “Rae, if I like you.”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “What good are you?”

A smirk. “I can show you.”

Anna spread out her arms. “Anytime now would be good.”

Raejean leveled the gun upwards, to the dark starless sky. Raejean fired the gun without taking her eyes off of her.

They waited.

And waited.

And then a big black bird fell down between them. Dead. A bleeding mess.

Anna glanced at Raejean with a silent question.

“They’re birds, too, you know,” Raejean said.

Anna glanced at the sky. Then she grabbed the rifle.


	7. Angels and Devils

The next three days followed the same routine. All four of them took turns checking in on Sam, although Charlie took to the task of cleaning his wounds. She said his leg wasn’t getting any better, but at least it wasn’t getting any worse. Dean didn’t find that comforting. What he wanted—needed—to hear, was that Sam would make it through in one piece.

Dean had been on the lookout for the angel that had hurt Sam. Castiel thought it was useless, that the angel would not be returning to finish Sam off, but Dean couldn’t be sure. There was no way of knowing how the angels really worked, and whatever creature Jess had sold her soul to for protection shouldn’t be trusted. It was only reasonable to assume that the angel that had attacked them would return, which was why Dean had refused to leave Sam’s sight.

They had already discussed leaving to find Anna, but Dean couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Sam and Jess behind. Castiel understood Dean’s worry, and he assured him that he would patiently wait until Dean felt comfortable enough to get back on the road. Dean knew how difficult it was for Castiel to not know any knowledge about his sister’s well-being, but he couldn’t find it in him to suggest to Castiel to take off on his own to find her. It was selfish of him, but having Castiel around was a necessity lately.

As he made his way downstairs, Dean heard the familiar snoring sounds that had kept him up many times before. When he rounded the corner into the living room, he saw Jess and Castiel sprawled on the pull-out couch, sleeping close together. Castiel’s head rested on her shoulder. Jess had one arm around Castiel. The sight was endearing as hell; Dean couldn’t look away.

He was forced to look away when Charlie emerged from the basement.

“Sam’s asking for you,” Charlie said.

Dean nodded, clapping Charlie’s shoulder as he walked past her. He was so infinitely grateful to her. “What would I do without you?”

Charlie gave him a soft smile. “Quit stalling and go talk to your brother.”

Sam was sitting up today, eating a bowl of cereal. It wasn’t the best breakfast, but they didn’t have many options for food. They would have to start stealing supplies from nearby houses.

“How you feeling, Sammy?” Dean asked, pulling up a chair by the couch that had become Sam’s bed.

“Can’t complain,” Sam said, taking another mouthful. “Where’s Jess?”

“Upstairs, sleeping with Cas,” Dean said, smiling sideways. “Actually, cuddling Cas.”

Sam snorted. “Well, at least she’s not alone.”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to help you move upstairs? There are three bedrooms in the house. Only two have beds, but you can take your pick.”

Sam shook his head. “We don’t know that the protection will work anywhere else in the house. Whatever that thing was, it said to bring me down to the basement. I can’t risk moving anywhere else.”

Dean sighed. At least Sam was fortunate enough to have a bathroom available in the basement. Without it, he would probably be peeing in empty bottles.

“We haven’t had a chance to talk since you got here,” Sam said, setting down his bowl of cereal. “Last time we spoke on the phone, you told me you were going to see a marriage counselor with Cas. Did you end up going before…?”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, we went. It was…an experience. I don’t think it helped either of us. Not to mention that the building got thrown down as soon as we walked out. Cas ran out of there, and I chased after him, and that saved our lives.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Why’d he run out?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” Dean said, frowning. “He took off his ring, and I was angry, and I thought he was giving up on everything. To be honest, Sammy, I’m not sure where we stand now. We’ve been talking, slowly, but we’re talking. I think somewhere along the way, we stopped talking like we used to, so getting back to that has been good for us. I think he’s learning to trust me again.”

“Cas said he didn’t trust you?”

“He didn’t have to,” Dean said, sighing. “There was something about his past that he kept from me. He kept it all to himself when he could have talked to me about it. I don’t think he realized how much it would hurt him to keep it inside.”

“You were never really comfortable with talking, Dean.”

Dean laughed, though it was a weak effort. “I know. But Cas makes me want to give him more than what I usually give. It just comes easy when it’s with him. He’s…he’s still the best thing that’s happened to me. I can’t imagine my life without him.” Dean shrugged, looking at his feet. “That’s why I don’t mind the talking.”

When Dean looked up, Sam was smiling at him. “I like seeing you like this. You’re not the brother I remember growing up, but I like it.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “Now, tell me, what do I have to do to convince you to get out of this moldy basement?”

“You won’t change my mind,” Sam said stubbornly. “I won’t risk losing the small safety we have right now.”

“This isn’t safe, Sam.” Dean clenched his jaw. “You know you won’t make it on painkillers alone. Your leg isn’t healing.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“For how long? We can’t continue this way. I won’t let you rot in here, Sammy. I won’t.” Dean hated the crack in his voice. He was supposed to comfort Sam, not worry him. But how could he pretend that everything would be okay when he knew it wouldn’t?

Sam looked at Dean in silence, and suddenly Dean could see a plan cooking in his brother’s eyes. Groaning, Sam shifted on the couch, and Dean rushed to his side to help him.

“I have an idea,” Sam said. “It may not work, and it might get us all killed. But if it works, then we might all get to live.”

“What is it?”

Sam told Dean his plan, which was insane, for starters, and wholly dependent on Sam’s theories being true. Dean had no other choice but to accept it. But before he did, he talked to Castiel, Charlie, and Jess about it. If their lives would be put at risk, they had to know why.

Castiel was the first on board with the plan. The chance to risk his life didn’t faze him at all, which concerned Dean more than he let on. Castiel had been talking to Sam a lot these past few days, in low hushed tones that quickly died down when Dean entered the room. It wouldn’t surprise Dean if Castiel had been in on the plan from the start.

It took a lot of work to get Sam up from the basement, but once they managed it, they set him down on the pull-out bed that creaked like there was no tomorrow.

And they waited.

For a few minutes, nothing happened. Dean and Castiel looked out the window for any signs of gray wings flapping in the distance, but there was nothing. The blue sky looked as empty and ordinary as any other day. Part of Dean was relieved, though he knew no results were no better than good results.

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was strained beside him.

When Dean looked again, following Castiel’s gaze, the sun blinded him at first. But after a while, Dean caught sight of a large winged man standing clear as day on the roof of the house across the street. It was as though he had materialized out of thin air while Dean was momentarily distracted. The man—angel—had his gaze on them, violent eyes focused on his target. It took a second for Dean’s brain to realize that Dean was not the man the angel was focused on, but Sam who was standing behind them. When Dean turned to Sam, he saw no fear, but there was anger in his eyes.

“Hide,” Dean said through his teeth.

“No.”

“Hide, Sam.”

Dean shot Sam a glare, and then Dean lost complete control of the situation.

Castiel bolted for the door, throwing it open and running out to the sidewalk. Gaping, Dean watched frozen as the angel took flight, and he went to hover close above Castiel. Without thinking it twice, Dean ran to stand in front of Castiel, covering him protectively, as though he could save him from the wrath of the angel.

This close, the angel looked enormous and intimidating. It wasn’t the size of the man, but the size of his wings, fanned with impeccable gray feathers, some of them longer and shinier than others—did he wax them? This angel wore a white suit with a gray tie, and he was barefoot. His brown hair was styled perfectly, not a hair out of place. Dean got the sense that it was impossible for an angel to look disheveled, no matter how many kills he had under his belt. The moment the angel drew his sword, something sharp, slick, and silver, Dean knew they were next on the list.

_Where the hell is the devil when you need him?_

Dean’s fear wouldn’t let him turn around to check if at least their plan had worked. They’d wanted to summon the angel, which would then summon the devil that took Jess’s soul. Coming out here to confront the angel head on had never been part of the plan.

“Humans,” the angel said, addressing Dean and Castiel. “You are not sinners worthy of death, but I will take you out if I must.”

“You want my brother,” Dean said, breathless. Speaking directly to the angel made him sick to his stomach. The angel’s presence tensed every muscle in his body.

“Sam Winchester is a sinner,” the angel said. “Let him surrender now to me, and his death will be painless and quick. If I use force to drag him out here, I will not show mercy.”

“Where the hell do you get off?” Castiel spat out, his head turned upward to the angel. “You fucking coward. All you know how to do is kill innocent humans left and right. You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t have a clue. So you kill anyone in your path. You can tell your God that I’m not afraid. This is the most cowardly, poorly organized version of an apocalypse I have ever heard of. You should all be ashamed. You had one job and you can’t do it right, you sorry bastards.”

“Cas,” Dean breathed.

The angel had his eyes narrowed at Castiel, head tilted to the side, as though he had never been told off by a human before. There was a mixture of confusion and indignation in his face, and then resolve, as his feet landed on the ground and his wings retracted somewhere in his back, disappearing. The angel was like a bug pretending to be a man.

A smirk appeared in the angel’s smooth face. It was sinister, and it reshaped his features. There was no confusion left. Only determination. The angel lifted a hand, and then lowered it, and Castiel fell to his knees, letting out a heavy gasp.

Dean tried to move, but his limbs were frozen. There were no binds keeping him still, but an invisible force constraining every part of his body. Dean cried out in frustration, his heart racing in his chest with every step the angel took closer to Castiel.

The angel moved the sword from his left hand to his right hand with ease, almost playfully, and he stopped a foot away from Castiel, landing a hand on his head. The angel inclined Castiel’s head down, to a bow, making it appear like nothing but a gentle caress. Castiel’s hands balled into fists, but other than that, there was no indication that he was afraid. Seconds from death. Castiel was seconds from death and Dean could do nothing to help him.

Dean would be forced to watch Castiel get beheaded by an angel.

The moment the angel raised his sword, angling it to Castiel’s exposed neck, Dean pressed his eyes shut. It was a cowardly move, but maybe humans were as cowardly as angels.

Dean waited for the sound of his husband dying. Waited as he realized there was no going back. Waited as he hoped the angel would kill Dean next, so he wouldn’t have to bear this for too long. Waited as his heart broke and reason escaped him.

Then, a shocked gasp.

Dean opened his eyes to find a long arrow stuck to the angel’s shoulder. The angel’s confusion returned and he stared at the arrow in offense, reaching to pull it out. Blood poured out of him. He looked more human than angel as he touched the bright crimson blood oozing from his shoulder. With the angel’s concentration on his wound, Dean was suddenly able to move freely again. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Dean ran to the angel and punched his face, then kneed him in the crotch. Dean wasn’t sure how similar the anatomy of an angel was to that of a man, but he hoped this hurt enough to weaken him. The angel stumbled back, face constricted in pain, and Dean took his chance to steal the sword from his grip.

The sword wasn’t as heavy as Dean had imagined. It was like holding a broom that he knew could kill. When the angel realized that Dean had taken his sword, he raised his hand again, but Dean chopped it off. More blood poured out of the angel, and by the looks of it, the angel was still shocked by the fact that he was bleeding in the first place. Dean didn’t let him think too hard on that, angling the sword this time to the angel’s throat, and slicing through it. With gurgling noises, the angel’s wide eyes peered at Dean before all light went out in them, and he fell to the hard ground.

For good measure, Dean brought the sword down hard against the angel’s ruptured neck, successfully disconnecting his head from the rest of his body.

A hand on his shoulder made Dean jump, and he released the sword, cringing when it clinked on the ground.

“Come inside, Dean.” Castiel pulled Dean by the shoulders, guiding him back to the house. The door shut behind them as they both entered.

Dean hadn’t realized his hands were shaking until Castiel took them in his and tried to still them. The next thing he noticed was Charlie, holding a bow in her hands. She’d shot the angel with an arrow. Dean had killed the angel. Dean had never killed anything before.

Sam.

Dean looked at Sam, but Sam was already looking at him. His eyes were wide and red, like he’d been crying. Jess was beside him, hugging him close to her. She was afraid. They were all afraid.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered, pressing his back against the wall.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Castiel said. “You saved my life, Dean.”

There was suddenly another presence in the house. A blond man stood in the middle of the living room, and there was something elegant about him. The man was dressed in fine blue clothing seeped in complicated laces, looking like royalty. His authoritative presence filled the room. “I’d hate to interrupt an emotional moment, but I believe you called for me.”

“Who are you?” Dean asked.

The man turned to Jess, grinning. “Would you mind filling them in? I’m not one for introductions.”

“I sold my soul to him,” Jess said evenly, holding Sam tighter.

The man rolled his eyes. “Humans and their dramatics. We simply made a deal, no harm no foul. You can call me Lucifer. And I am here to clean up the mess you’ve made.” The man looked at Dean firmly.

“Can you put an end to this?” Castiel asked.

“Not on my own accord, no,” the man—Lucifer—said. “However, I can offer you something to get you there. A way to send the angels back home.”

“How?” Castiel asked.

“Cas, no,” Dean said, pushing off the wall. “We can’t keep selling our souls to the devil. There has to be another way.” This had been their original plan, but the feeling in Dean’s gut was telling him that this was not the way to go. They had been so foolish thinking the devil himself could help them in any way.

“There isn’t,” Lucifer said, smiling a charming smile. Lucifer took two steps closer, and his gaze startled Dean. His eyes were the same blue as Castiel’s. It threw him off for a moment. “Let me explain what just happened since you seem unbelievably clueless.” The devil reached out to brush his fingers against Dean’s jaw, and the touch burned. Castiel drew Dean back, standing close beside him. Lucifer was amused. “You, my dear Dean, have just murdered an angel. The news spread fast in the angel world, and you have just become the number one wanted sinner in this sinfully delicious planet. In other words, there’s a bounty out for you, and the only reason why the feathered ones haven’t dragged you away yet is because I’ve blocked this house from their radar, made all of you practically nonexistent. When you inevitably step outside this house, my Dean, an entire garrison of angels will come at you, and there will be such sweet torture that would leave _me_ impressed.”

Dean glared at Lucifer, wanting nothing but to kill him in the same way he’d just killed the angel. That would prove much more difficult in here, though, so Dean resisted his most violent urges. What made Dean furious was how right Lucifer was. When he killed the angel, he had become the number one angel target. But there had been no other alternative. It was either the angel or Castiel, and Dean would give his life over and over again for Castiel.

“What exactly do you want from me? My soul?” Dean asked.

“Only for assurance purposes,” Lucifer said, lifting his chin. “You will give me your soul, and I will guarantee your safety from the moment you leave this house until the moment you complete your end of the bargain.”

“And what would that be?”

Lucifer smirked, and something wicked flickered in his eyes. A reminder that he wasn’t doing this out of the kindness of his heart. “Find an archangel, and convince him to betray Michael. Without Michael giving commands to the angels, the destruction will stop, and you can continue your sorry existence on earth as you did before.”

“An archangel. Right. Where the hell would I find one of those?”

“There are only two besides Michael: Raphael and Gabriel. Unfortunately, Raphael is closely linked to Michael, and although Raphael has become nothing but a pitiful assistant to his elder brother, there is nothing you could say that would convince him to betray Michael.” Lucifer pursed his lips, thoughtful. “Well, maybe you could somehow convince him that he’s throwing his life away by serving Daddy’s boy, but the chances he’ll actually go through with the betrayal are very slim. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“You’re Lucifer,” Castiel said. “You were an angel too.”

“Aren’t we a little past introductions?” Lucifer asked, irritated. “Yes, I was an angel, and now I’m not. And trust me, I’m not trying to get revenge on my family by helping you insignificant humans. But this mindless destruction is slowing down traffic downstairs, so I figured it was time I returned from vacation to clean up this mess. Any other questions?”

Castiel was quiet.

“Good, let’s proceed. As I was saying, Raphael may not be your best bet. Therefore, Gabriel is your only option, and a sad one at that. I wish I could give you more hopes, but even I don’t trust my brother. He’s quite flaky; it’s embarrassing. If there is one positive aspect about Gabriel, it’s that he’s already betrayed Michael.”

“If he already betrayed Michael, then why is this shit still going on?” Dean asked. It felt like they were just going in circles. Who would have thought that Lucifer was such a rambler?

“Well, none of his converts have managed to kill Michael, so there’s that. What you will have to do, Dean, is find Gabriel and get him to turn you into an angel so that you can lure Michael out from his cave in heaven, and kill him.”

Dean looked at Castiel, wondering if he heard right. Sam, Jess, and Charlie were all looking as helplessly as he felt.

“Come again?”

Lucifer grinned. “You heard me right the first time. I happen to know that my dear brother has a contest in which the winner gets the prize of an angelic grace, so that would be your first step in the ordeal. Archangels are the only ones powerful enough to create angels out of ordinary humans.”

Dean scoffed. “Why do I need to become a fucking angel to kill Michael? I’m human, and I already killed one of those bastards.”

“Yes, you killed a low level solider,” Lucifer said, raising an eyebrow. “Congratulations. Any pathetic human could accomplish that, which sadly, has not crossed the minds of the majority of you. An archangel is far stronger in every capacity. Only another angel can kill an archangel, and even then, luring Michael out of heaven to earth—the only place he’ll be vulnerable—is a difficult feat.” Lucifer sighed. “Trust me when I say that I wish I had found someone more adequate to take on this task, but you will have to do.”

Dean considered this deal, the impossibilities of it. Pawning his soul for protection already made him uneasy, but if Lucifer was right, if this actually worked, then maybe he could put an end to the apocalypse. Maybe in the near future, Dean and Castiel could return to their home in Denton and continue with their domestic life together. They could have their old lives again. They could have that and more, if Dean succeeded.

“If I agree to this,” Dean said, ignoring the looks everyone was throwing him. “I want you to return Jess’s soul, heal Sam, and assure their safety, along with Charlie’s and Castiel’s.”

“What I offered was enough,” Lucifer countered.

“What you offered Jess for her soul was nothing,” Dean said, holding his gaze. “So you will agree to my terms or you will lose more time tracking down another person desperate enough to fall for your tricks. I have already proven that I’m capable of killing an angel, which you yourself admitted most humans haven’t attempted. I’m the best you got. Agree to all of my terms, or we don’t have a deal.”

A tense silence followed the end of Dean’s sentence. Lucifer’s smile didn’t falter as he continued to stare at Dean, studying him carefully. Dean didn’t know if he’d been convincing enough or if Lucifer could see through him enough to know that Dean had no idea what he was doing. But maybe they were both desperate enough not to care.

“We have a deal, then,” Lucifer said, extending his hand.

Dean walked forward and shook his hand, feeling the same burn he’d felt when Lucifer had laid hands on him earlier. Dean wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

The next second, Lucifer was gone.

Behind him, a wrinkled flyer fell in waves to the floor. Dean picked it up and scanned his eyes quickly over it.

 

SO YOU WANT TO BE AN ANGEL?

The last family-friendly show on the only TV network left on the planet.

Human participants only.

For more info, come to the old Best Buy in Oakland, CA.

 

Dean handed Castiel the flyer, rushing over to Sam, who was standing up straight, fully healed. Dean could almost cry from sheer happiness. Sam immediately hugged Dean and they clung to each other like they did the night of the fire as children, with trembling hands and hopelessness.

“You didn’t have to do that, Dean,” Sam whispered.

“It’ll be okay, Sammy. I promise.”

Sam pulled away, looking at Dean like he couldn’t believe he was lying to him at this moment. But then Jess reached for Sam, and Dean didn’t have to feel guilty about it too long.

Dean turned to Charlie, who wrapped her arms around him before punching his shoulder.

“You dumbass,” Charlie said. “You’re lucky I found that dusty bow and arrow in the garage.”

“Don’t blame Dean,” Castiel said, suddenly beside him again. “It was all my fault. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t,” Dean said coldly. It was hard enough to have to carry on with his new deal with the devil without having to worry about what sort of wild move Castiel would make next.

“Dean, I didn’t want you to compromise your soul for us,” Castiel said. “I was willing to do it. But I realized that it didn’t matter which one of us offered their soul. If we don’t accomplish your end of the bargain, he’ll take all of our lives.”

“I figured that much,” Dean said, running a hand through his hair.

“How about we worry about one thing at a time, yeah, guys?” Charlie said, shaking her head as she went to check on Sam.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Castiel said, reaching for Dean’s hand.

Dean wasn’t looking for apologies. He wasn’t even angry with Castiel. But it hurt him to know he couldn’t trust Castiel anymore. As if they needed another problem to add to the stack.

“I know, Cas,” Dean said, squeezing Castiel’s hand before letting go.

 

*******

 

Right as they were done putting all their belongings in the Impala, Charlie announced that she wasn’t going with them. Crossing his arms, Castiel leaned against the side of the car. Dean got back out of the driver’s seat of the car, protesting.

“What the hell do you mean you’re not coming?” Dean asked, looking from Charlie to the half open door. Sam and Jess had said their goodbyes inside, but they weren’t risking stepping outside the safety of their new home. Then Dean looked at the sky. Even with the assurance Lucifer had given them, they were all still wary of the protection they had been offered. Castiel wouldn’t let Dean out of his sight as much as he could help it.

“I’m not coming,” Charlie said again, sighing. “Dean, you have to go through with this. It’s something you _have_ to do. But I can’t just leave Sam and Jess trapped in this house. They can’t go anywhere. If they run out of food, they’ll be trapped here for God knows how long. Do you really want me there with you when I can be here, helping them?”

Something dawned on Dean, and he nodded slowly. Charlie moved first, taking Dean in her arms and kissing his head. Dean clung to her like she was his last source of strength.

“I’ll come back,” Dean promised. “I told the same to Sammy and Jess, but now I’m telling you. Take care of them for me.”

Charlie nodded, and then she hugged Castiel. Before she leaned away, she whispered, “You won’t get anywhere if you keep fighting with each other. Show him how much you love him.”

“I will,” Castiel promised. “Thanks, Charlie.”

“Get out of here,” Sam said, sticking his head out the door. “You’re going to be late to the game show.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Get back inside. Charlie’s staying.”

“I know,” Sam said, smiling. “We talked about it.”

“Of course you did,” Dean said.

Charlie went to stand by the door, opening it another inch to reveal Jess as well. With the sight of all three of them together, Castiel got inside the passenger seat. Dean climbed in after, igniting the rumbling engine.

Castiel looked at Dean, and Dean looked back. “Are you ready to do this?”

“No,” Dean said, the corner of his lips quirking up. “Are you?”

“Not at all.”

They set out on the road.

 

 

 

It had been a few hours of Led Zeppelin when Castiel finally turned down the music to talk. He’d been content to keep the peace between them as the music played and they ignored each other, though he knew it wouldn’t be permanent. Now his legs felt stiff and he needed to break some of the tension between them.

“Before we left Denton, Bobby asked me to stop by on our way to New York,” Castiel said, clearing his throat. “He wants to know about Sam and Jess.”

Dean continued driving, one hand steady on the wheel and the other on the open window. “We’re not going to New York yet.”

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to think about that. Anna was still alone in New York, and Castiel had no way of knowing if she was safe or not. And he didn’t know how much longer it would take for them to find her. If Castiel was brave enough, he would track her down on his own. He would split ways with Dean and he would search for her alone. Castiel _should_ do that, because Anna was his only sister, and he was her older brother, but the truth was, he was weak. Venturing out on his own was too risky, and he didn’t think he could do it. The biggest reason was that Castiel couldn’t lose track of Dean, especially now that he was the main angel target.

Anna was one of the topics Castiel would try to avoid for the sake of their marriage—and to maintain his sanity.

“Bobby will be waiting for us,” Castiel said.

“He’ll understand.”

“He’ll worry.”

They were quiet for another fifteen minutes, and Castiel hated every second of it.

“Talk to me,” Castiel said, rolling down his window all the way. The heat wasn’t helping his mood.

“About what?”

“Anything. Tell me why you’re not talking to me.”

“I’m talking now.” Dean gave him a quick sideways glance.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Cas, what you did back there was foolish.”

“I know—”

“Do you?” Dean asked. “I don’t think you do. I was sure you were going to be killed right in front of me. I was sure I couldn’t save you. All I could think was how much I wanted my own death to come after yours.” Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles gone white. “I told you not to do anything to risk your life, but you went out there and you put yourself in the middle of the danger. And I thought I’d lost you, Cas. I thought—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Dean. And for that, I am sorry.” Castiel looked at Dean’s profile, at the curve of his jaw and his perfect cheekbone peppered with freckles, all of which Castiel had kissed countless times. “I did it to summon Lucifer. We needed something big to get him to show. Staying inside the house would have accomplished nothing. But I should have told you about it beforehand. I knew you wouldn’t be pleased with the plan.”

“Like hell I would,” Dean snapped. He ran a hand through his hair and turned to Castiel, a soft look in his eyes. “I thought we were doing better, you know. I thought we could trust each other again. But what you did, it drove me nuts, Cas. Now I don’t know what else to expect from you. When push comes to shove, I’ll be too busy making sure you don’t throw yourself into an open flame instead of watching my own back.”

“Dean, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I won’t do anything like that again. You have my word. What can I do to make you trust me? I need you to trust me. I need us to work.”

Dean took a deep breath. He ejected the cassette tape that had been playing quietly in the background. “Hand me the AC/DC one.”

Castiel pulled out the box underneath the seat and dug through the old tapes until he found the one Dean wanted. He gave it to Dean, who put it on. _Highway to Hell_ started playing, and Dean relaxed when the chorus started.

“Are you going to ignore me now?” Castiel asked.

“I’m thinking.”

“Alright.” Castiel looked out the window at the blurring images of trees. They were on a long country highway heading to New Mexico. It would take longer than a day to get to Oakland, California, where this supposed abandoned Best Buy would be. Castiel didn’t know if he trusted this archangel with the game show, but it was their only option.

When the song ended, Dean reached for Castiel’s left hand across the seat, and lifted it. “When did you put the ring back on? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Before we left Sam and Jess's new house,” Castiel said, looking at the silver band on his fourth finger. The weight of it wasn’t as bad as it was a few weeks ago. Somehow, it made him feel normal again. As normal as Castiel could feel with angels on the loose, chasing after his husband.

“Thank you,” Dean said. “For wearing it, I mean.”

“I told you, I didn’t want to lose it.”

Dean nodded. “Hey, Cas, do you think we’ll ever get our boring lives back? I mean ‘boring’ as a good thing. I loved our boring lives. I loved having a job I loved, coming home to a house I loved, to a husband I loved. I loved the routine we had going on. It was the best time of my life.”

Castiel looked at him. “And you're worried you won’t get that back?”

“…Yeah.”

“You will. I will too.” Castiel kissed the hand that was holding his. “I know we will.”

“Are you still down with my plan?” Dean asked with a smirk.

“What plan?”

“Growing old with me,” Dean said. “We can sit out on our back porch, drinking coffee, talking loudly cause we’ll both be wearing hearing aids by then, and just look at the stars.”

Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Dean said, squeezing back. “Good.”


	8. Flame III

The woman was psychic.

Or so they said.

Raejean knew of her before the angels showed up and pissed on everything. They went to see her, but Raejean had to stay outside.

“Psychics don’t trust us,” Raejean said.

“Then stay put.”

The woman introduced herself as Missouri, but that was all she said of herself.

Anna sat down with her, asked for what she needed, and waited for laughter.

It didn’t come.

“This is real?” Anna asked. “What I’m asking for really exists?”

“It isn’t real if you don’t believe in it,” Missouri said pointedly.

“Not the time for a lesson,” she said. “Will it work?”

“Only one way to find out,” Missouri said.

“That’s reassuring.”

Missouri got to work. It only took a few hours until Missouri presented her with a small charm in the form of a necklace. It looked like an ordinary jewelry pendant, but Missouri said it was quartz, and inside was stored the protection spell.

“That’s it?” Anna asked.

“What else were you expecting?” Missouri stared back at her.

Anna shook her head, opting to hang the necklace around her neck.

Before she got up to leave, Missouri stopped her.

“There are no guarantees,” Missouri said. “Not really.”

“I know.”

“Be safe, child.”

Anna smiled. It was nice to know someone cared.

 

*******

 

They were on an open field, shooting empty cans.

Anna was getting better, but she wasn’t great.

“I just need to keep trying,” she said, her irritation bleeding through.

“You need to listen to me,” Raejean said, taking the rifle from her. “You’re angry. Let that anger settle down and use it to concentrate, but don’t drag it with you when you’re shooting. You’re not focused. And we don’t have an endless supply of ammo.”

“We’ll find more,” she said.

Raejean smirked. “So much confidence for someone who can’t shoot straight.”

Anna took the rifle back from Raejean. “I can shoot you just fine from here.”

Raejean laughed, the soft sound echoing around them. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Try it again,” Raejean said, pointing to the cans in the distance. “Keep in mind what I said. That anger isn’t being put to the best use. This is war. Do you want to let the enemy win or do you want to fight back?”

Anna said nothing.

Anna lifted the rifle, angled it to her shoulder, focused on her aim, channeled her anger, letting it heat without boiling, and she fired. She hit the can on the first shot. Just like that. Beautifully.

“I did it,” she gasped.

“You did it, champ,” Raejean said, a hand on her shoulder.

Anna turned with the rifle in her hands, aiming it at Raejean. “Can I shoot you now?”

“I may be a demon, but I can still bleed,” Raejean said. “I don’t like to be messy.”

Anna slumped her shoulders. “You’re no fun.”

“Come on, let’s grab dinner. My treat. You’ve done good.”

“I’m not your pet,” she said.

“I never said you were.”

“Why me?”

Raejean looked at her, slightly confused.

“Of all humans remaining on earth, why did you approach me?” she asked.

“Random chance. It wasn’t destiny, if that’s what you think.”

No, she had never been naïve enough to think that their encounter had been fate, but it was too convenient. Maybe it wasn’t, though. Maybe it was just completely random.

“Are there many others like you roaming around?” she asked.

Raejean smiled, staring ahead as they walked back to their bikes. Raejean had found a Harley-Davison, which she had envied at first, but now she thought it suited her best. There was something fierce, yet eloquent about Raejean. It was in the way she carried herself, confident, but eager to please. It was hard not to trust her.

“Mostly in hiding,” Raejean said. “The Big One likes to send us out on a leash every now and then, but for our own protection we keep a low profile. We’re self-preserving. This isn’t our realm anymore. The angels arrived and pissed on everything to mark their territory.”

“The Big One? Why do you call him that?”

“He has many names. Call him whatever you want. The devil. Lucifer. Satan. He’s the same cocky guy. Hopefully you never meet him.”

Anna was curious. “Is he really so evil? I mean, the angels were always presented as the good guys, but suddenly they’re not. I can’t imagine any creature being worse than them.”

“The angels have never been entirely good,” Raejean said, the faint smile returning. When she looked up at the sun, she squinted. “They’re warriors, and they’re trained to follow commands. They’re under poor command at the moment, which is why their destruction is so erratic. I wouldn’t necessarily call them evil, much as I despise them. The Big One is different. His motives are solid, selfish. He thrives on his wickedness. But he lost all his control when the angels arrived. That pissed him off. He needs that back. He won’t rest until he gets it.”

“Are you saying the devil is on our side?”

Raejean shook her head. “The devil works only for his own benefit. He doesn’t take sides.”

“Sounds charming.”

“Oh, he is. That’s the problem.”

Anna looked at Raejean, wondering hundreds of other things, but the ache in her belly was stronger. Anna was ravenous all of a sudden.

“Where are we eating?” she asked.

Raejean looked at her. “Don’t worry, it isn’t far. I heard your stomach back there.”

“Are you trying to shame me for having human needs?”

“No, I like your human needs.”

“How so?”

“It’s endearing,” Raejean said, looking away. “I haven’t felt human in so long myself.”

“You were human once? You weren’t always a demon?” The thought had never occurred to her. But it made a lot of sense.

“That’s how we all start,” Raejean said. “Human, hell, demon, eternal servitude.”

“How long ago were you human?”

Raejean shrugged. “I can’t remember. I just know that I was.”

Anna stopped walking when she reached her cruiser, holding it up by the handles. “Are you one of those demons out on a leash, Rae?”

Anna didn’t miss the way Raejean blinked at the shortened version of her name. She expected her to protest, but she didn’t.

“In some ways,” Raejean said. “Let’s just say I fell through the cracks of the system.”

“So the devil doesn’t know you’re out here helping a human shoot a gun?”

“The devil knows everything,” Raejean said. “It’s unfortunate. But he hasn’t intervened yet. I’m assuming he’s waiting to see how it plays out before ordering me back home.”

Anna frowned. “He sounds controlling.”

“Well, he didn’t get his reputation out of good behavior.”

They each climbed on their bikes, igniting their rumbling engines.

“Dinner first, then we’re going hunting.” Raejean narrowed her eyes.

Anna winked. “Let’s do this, partner.”


	9. Food and Entertainment

Before leaving Texas, they decided to stop for dinner in El Paso. It took a lot of searching, but they eventually found a Mexican restaurant that was still open. The brightly lit brick building stood apart in the street that was otherwise covered in darkness. It appeared that everyone in the neighborhood had decided to dine in this place because the parking lot was packed all the way to the street.

“You think they’re still taking cash in there?” Dean asked.

Castiel hummed. “Maybe. Maybe not. I have some if we need it.”

“It’s practically useless.”

“You don’t know that. The government might still have a plan in the works.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, right. The government will come solve all of our problems of the feathered variety.”

Castiel walked with Dean to Gloria’s Mexican Grill and held open the door for him.

“Didn’t know I married such a gentleman,” Dean said over his shoulder.

Castiel lightly tapped his ass as he pushed past him. There was no hostess to usher them to a table. The man at the bar glanced at them upon entering, and he told them to sit anywhere. Castiel headed over to the one empty table near the bathrooms. All the chairs at all the tables were occupied by people who were eating like it was their last meal, and others who looked too paranoid to enjoy what they were eating. There were a range of people, from finely dressed, to caked in mud and blood stains.  

It was difficult not to stare, but this was a new side to this new society Castiel still hadn’t witnessed up close. And it terrified him. In less than a week, many people had crumbled. All things considered, the existence of this restaurant was the closes thing to a miracle. If such a thing was still real. Castiel was in the middle of a faith crisis due to their current circumstances, but that was an issue for another time.

As soon as they sat down, Dean leaned forward on the table, motioning for Castiel to do the same. Castiel moved closer.

“I don’t like it here,” Dean mumbled.

“It’s not like we have many options to choose from.”

Dean gulped, his eyes scanning the room. There was a group at the bar who was laughing loudly, clinking their drinks and slapping their backs. “There’s something fishy about this place.”

“They’re open, and they clearly have food.” Castiel sighed. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s all we have. Did you see any other places open for business?”

Dean looked at Castiel, considering. “Alright. We eat quick and then we go.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying to dance.” Castiel’s lips curled into a smile, and Dean chuckled softly, leaning back on his seat.

“This place is nothing like the taco place on our first date, but I could still show you a good time.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “What happened to just eating and leaving?”

Dean shrugged and smirked. “Changed my mind.”

“Something caught your eye?”

“You could say that.”

Castiel felt Dean’s ankle touching his leg beneath the table. He couldn’t help but laugh. Although Castiel appreciated the attempts, this was the least romantic place he’d ever been in. At least it took his mind off of the anxiety-inducing thoughts at being here.

A woman in a tattered green jacket at the table beside them caught their attention with a small wave. The sight of her red hair and soft smile made Castiel feel guilty. She looked younger than Anna, but not by much. This girl had to be in her mid-twenties, but there was a teenage-looking girl at the table with her. The brown-haired girl’s clothes weren’t in such bad shape, but she had a few cuts and scrapes on her face.

“I hope you’re not expecting to be waited on,” Red Hair said. “There’s food in the back. Randy only asks that you leave something in return.” She pointed to the man at the bar, pouring drinks for the rowdy crowd.

“What does he want in return?” Dean asked, skeptical.

Brown Hair frowned as she chewed on her food. “Is this supposed to have orange seasoning in it? It’s beef. Why does it taste like orange?”

Red Hair ignored the other girl’s comment. “Whatever you have. All the food he cooked is perishable, so he’s giving it away before it rots. He’s taking canned foods, spare clothes, shoes, toiletries, weapons…”

“Why does he need weapons?” Castiel asked, tilting his chin over at Randy. The man looked short, compared to everyone else around him. His wolfish smile came off as friendly, but Castiel was suddenly suspicious of him. It was in the way his eyes traveled to the people in the place, measuring them down, almost like he was taking stock of them.

“Everybody needs weapons nowadays,” Red Hair said, peeling a ripe banana.

“I said I’d give this a try, Leyna, but I don’t want it anymore,” Brown Hair said.

“Just eat it, Sara,” Red Hair—Leyna—said.

Sighing, Sara pushed away her plate and crossed her arms, looking at Leyna defiantly. “No.”

“Fine. Then starve to death. God knows when we’ll find food again.”

“We just need to keep looking.”

“Where, Sara? There’s nothing left.”

Sara turned her face away from everyone, and Castiel looked at his lap. Despite everything they’d seen so far, the truth of it all hadn’t really hit Castiel until now. It wasn’t shocking, but it was depressing.

If Dean managed to stop the destruction—which he would, because it was Dean and he could do anything—would there still be anyone left to save?

“I’m Dean,” he said, offering his hand. Leyna shook it, but Sara was still looking the other way. “This is Cas, my husband.”

“Nice to meet you,” Leyna said, shaking Castiel’s hand as well. Her grasp was strong. For some reason, it gave Castiel a glimmer of hope. “I’m Leyna, and this is my cousin Sara. We both lost our houses in this town. She’s all the family I have left.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said.

“Thanks,” Leyna said. “That’s the first time anyone’s said that to me. We don’t talk to many people.”

“I don’t blame you,” Dean said, his gaze trailing back to the bar where another round of laughter erupted. He turned back to Castiel. “Let’s grab some food.”

Castiel was already out of his seat, leading the way into the kitchen.

The kitchen was spacious, and rich in flavors and spices. There were trays of food set out on a large counter beside the stove. Most of the food was gone, but there was enough for two more plates. Castiel served a portion of the suspicious looking beef, a bit of rice, and decided to skip the black beans because they were giving off an odd smell. There was salad, but the lettuce didn’t look fresh in the slightest. Vegetables were important, though. Castiel sighed and grabbed a bit of salad anyway.

“We won’t die from this, will we?” Dean asked, poking at the food on his plate.

“Hopefully not. But let’s not rule out food poisoning.”

“What are we going to leave behind as payment?”

There was a stack in the corner full of canned food, winter jackets, shoes, books, knives, and three guns. Castiel was immediately temped to grab one of them for their own protection, but he wouldn’t know what to do with a gun. Also, a very human part of him would feel guilty stealing from someone who was giving them food.

Castiel took out some of the cash he had on him a tossed it on the pile. It was probably useless, but maybe it would excite Randy to find it. Old habits die hard.

“Should we steal a gun?” Dean asked, as though he’d read his mind.

“The point is to leave something,” Castiel said, though he eyed Dean with a silent question. _Should we?_

“If that Randy guy was up to something, he wouldn’t leave his weapons exposed, would he?”

Castiel shrugged. “I guess not. Or maybe he’s the stupid kind of evil.”

Dean tugged on Castiel’s sleeve. “Come on. Let’s stick to the original plan. Eat and go. I don’t like the smell of this place.”

“I think it’s the meat. I bet it’s old.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Please, go on. You’re making me salivate.”

They sat back down at their tables.  

A few things were different. The first thing Castiel noticed was that Leyna and Sara were gone, their half-eaten food left behind. Castiel was sure they hadn’t taken that long in the kitchen, so he couldn’t understand why they had left in such a hurry.

The second thing Castiel noticed was that all eyes on the room were on them. The hardest of the stares were coming from the previously loud group at the bar, who had quieted down all of a sudden. Some of them were more obvious than others in their staring, but there was no doubt they were gawking at the two of them. They couldn’t possibly know that they’d considered stealing a gun. Could they?

Dean remained oblivious to the stares as he dug into his food, wrinkling his nose as he chewed. “Is this supposed to taste citrusy?”

Castiel wrapped a hand around Dean’s neck and drew him close. “Dean, something’s wrong,” he whispered into his ear. Then Castiel kissed his cheek and smiled as he pulled away to not draw more attention to them.

Dean returned the smile, but the guarded look in his eyes showed his understanding. As he continued eating, Dean looked to his right at the now empty table. “You’re not eating. Food’s not so bad.”

“Better than my cooking?” Castiel attempted humor, though the twist in his stomach made his words sound strained.

“Nothing’s better than your cooking, baby.” Dean swallowed his food before taking another large bite.

“How about some beers?” Castiel asked, pushing his plate to the side and rising from his chair.

“I’ll go with you,” Dean said.

Castiel took the lead and grabbed two stools from the counter, planting himself down beside the noisy group.

“What can I get you?” Randy asked, eyes flicking from the group to Dean and Castiel.

“Two beers,” Castiel said, shifting as a bald man in a canvas jacket stared blatantly at him, and then at Dean.

“Can we help you?” Dean asked beside him, leaning forward to be seen over Castiel.

The bald man had a deep voice when he spoke. “You certainly can, gentlemen. You most certainly can. I’m sure glad you joined us tonight.” He grinned a wide and toothy smile that was as devious as that of an angel’s. For a second, Castiel wondered if he was one of them, but decided it was his paranoia getting the best of him.

“Here’s your beers,” Randy said, narrowing his eyes at the bald man. “Stow it, Jack. You’re scaring off my customers.”

“Did anyone see where the girls at the table next to us went?” Castiel wondered, keeping his tone casual as he took a sip of his beer. “They left their food uneaten.”

Randy shrugged. “They just up and left.”

“Didn’t say anything?” Dean asked.

“I’m not here to keep track of who comes and goes. I’m doing enough by giving handouts to the needy, aren’t I?”

“That’s right, Brother Randy here is a good Samaritan,” Jack said. “Doing God’s work.”

Randy laughed, wiping the counter.

“We’re still alive because God saved us,” Jack said, raising his glass. “We are faithful Christians in the name of God. All those dead are filthy sinners. But we—we live on.”

The group cheered, and they all clank their glasses and drank.

“It was about damned time that the wicked started paying for their sins. Justice is priceless, my friends. Those who died, they asked for it. They paid for their twisted acts of _sodomy_ ,” Jack leered at Dean and Castiel at this part, “and their liberal views, as if a few guns ever hurt anybody!” The group burst into laughter, though it didn’t reach the people at the tables. “These sinners have strayed from our Lord long enough, and now justice has killed them one by one. God bless the angels!”

“God bless the angels!” the group echoed.

Castiel knew they were in serious trouble now. He glanced back at Dean and saw the same panic he felt reflected in his face. They downed their beers, and then Castiel’s stomach grumbled. The few bites of the meat he’d eaten were ready to come back up.

“Ready to go?” Dean asked, voice quiet but tense. He kept his hand on Castiel’s back.

“Not quite.”

“What’s the hold up?”

“I’m gonna be sick. I need a bathroom.”

Dean sighed, measuring the situation. “Alright. I’ll wait for you here and we’ll leave together. Hurry back.”

“You could wait in the car. I’ll be fine.” Castiel eyed the group hesitantly, but they had gone back to their own private conversations.

“No. I’m not leaving you alone here.”

Castiel scanned the room once more, and he saw something he hadn’t seen before. Worried glances came from some of the people still eating at the tables. There was something odd in their looks, like pity. It was much different from the glances the crowd at the bar was giving them, which was a whole lot more threatening. Even Randy had gone quiet, but at least he wasn’t looking at them anymore.

“I won’t be long,” Castiel promised, heading to the restroom just a few steps away.

The relief Castiel felt after emptying his stomach was worth the extra minutes they had to spend in this hellhole. Castiel still couldn’t understand what had shifted in the room from the time they went into the kitchen to the time they went back to their table. And where had Leyna and Sara disappeared to? They’d looked like they were too tired to go anywhere any time soon. Nothing made much sense.

Castiel washed his hands and his eyes wandered. Beside the foggy mirror was a small poster written in big bold letters, very amateurish, but it still caught his attention.

 

            **WANTED**

**Have you seen this man?**

**6’ 1”**

**175 lbs**

**Green Eyes. Freckles.**

**Goes by Dean Winchester**

**If found, the angels will reward you with peace on earth** **and eternal salvation for you and your loved ones, including those already taken. Must be captured alive.**

Right below the poster was a picture of Dean at the park. It was a picture Castiel had taken on the first year they were dating, showing one of Dean’s best smiles. There was a bit of chocolate on his chin because they had just eaten ice cream and Dean _loved_ ice cream. Castiel had snapped a quick picture because Dean had looked so endearing. Despite his smile, Dean had been taken by surprise when the picture was taken. This pictured was one of Castiel’s favorites, and he knew for a fact that it had been on their fridge at home, pressed by a magnet, when they’d left.

And the picture had somehow been taken, photocopied onto a Wanted poster, and it was now on a public bathroom in the middle of Nowhere, Texas.

“Holy shit,” Castiel breathed, wet hands yanking the poster from the wall and folding it into smaller pieces before stuffing it in the pocket of his jeans.

It all made sense now. The stares. The tension. The awkward silences. The people in the restaurant knew Dean was wanted by the angels. They were waiting on their chance to strike.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered. Then, louder, “Dean!”

But when Castiel walked out of the restroom, Dean was no longer at the bar. Before panicking, Castiel searched the room, locking eyes with a few people who looked away as soon as he met their eyes. Randy was still at the bar, but he was alone. The group there was gone.

Castiel ran outside the restaurant, kicking the door open as he went. There were no signs of Dean or the group anywhere. There weren’t any cars on the road either.

“Fuck. Fucking hell.” Castiel dug his fingers in his hair, feeling breathless. His racing heart was ready to explode, but he tried to keep calm on the outside. Rubbing the tears from his eyes, Castiel went back inside.

“Where is he?” Castiel asked, his gravelly voice coming out rougher than it had ever sounded. “Where is Dean?”

“Already told you, I don’t keep track of who comes and goes,” Randy said, wiping the counter with an old rag.

Castiel stalked forward, and then he was pulling Randy across the counter by his shirt collar. “Tell me where they took my husband, you bastard.”

Randy grinned. “Good luck trying to get him back. The price is high on his head.”

“You son of a bitch.” Castiel released him, and spun around to address the room who was too quiet. “Where did they take him? I know you saw them leaving. Where did they take Dean and those poor girls?”

No one said anything, but many of them lowered their heads.

“He’s my family. Doesn’t that matter to any of you?”

Silence again.

Castiel headed for the exit again, but before he reached the door, a voice stopped him on his tracks.

“They didn’t go far,” a man said.

When Castiel turned around to put a face to the voice, all heads were bowed again.

“Thanks,” Castiel muttered, striding into the night air outside. If he could, he would collapse on the ground under his feet and sob until he was dry. As tempting as that thought was, Castiel knew he couldn’t be a coward anymore. Not when Dean’s life was in danger.

Never would he have imagined that the angels would go through such human methods to find and capture Dean. Appealing with a reward to humans was the perfect solution to the angel blocker Lucifer had placed on Dean. Why hadn’t they considered this option before?

Dammit. Dammit all to hell.

Castiel walked to the Impala, but he couldn’t get in because it was locked and Dean had the keys. Perfect. Just what he needed.

“Fucking Lucifer,” Castiel said, taking out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting up. He walked around the restaurant, looking closely at the spaces between each car, hoping to find some kind of lead. “Why didn’t you tell us how dirty the angels played? You send Dean off to do your dirty work, but you don’t even help us. Asshole. What did I expect from the devil? We were stupid enough to trust your word. Should have known better than to trust some dipshit fallen angel.”

“I’d watch the insults if I were you.”

Castiel tensed, slowly turning around in the direction of the voice.

A tall woman stood before him, dressed in jeans and a crisp white t-shirt. She wore a baseball cap on top of her black curly hair. The casual, nonchalant look threw off Castiel. He hadn’t seen someone like her in a while, so cool and calm and clean. She couldn’t have possibly been in the restaurant.

“Where’d you come from?” Castiel asked.

“Hell.” She smirked, clicking her tongue. “Name’s Victoria. I’d love to chat, but we’ve got work to do.”

“What do you mean, hell?”

“The one and only hell. Come with me.” Victoria walked down the sidewalk towards the traffic light on the street. When she realized Castiel was still standing motionless, she called over her shoulder, “We’re getting Dean back, dumbass. What are you waiting for, a theme song?”

Castiel blinked. There was no reason why he should trust this random woman who appeared out of thin air, but it was the only option he had at the moment. He followed after her.

“Don’t tell me Lucifer sent you,” Castiel said, putting out his cigarette and running to catch up to her.

“Fine. I won’t tell you.”

Castiel gaped. “He sent you?”

“I swear, humans are so confusing. They say one thing, but they mean something entirely different. Who could understand you? Bunch of cocky animals.”

“Are you a devil too?” Castiel asked, raising his eyebrows. Apparently, he had a lot to learn about heaven and hell. Not to mention that kind of knowledge could come in handy lately.        

Victoria laughed, crossing the desolate street. “Don’t ever say that in front of Lucifer. He’ll skin you alive, and then he’ll drown you in lemon juice.”

Castiel winced at the mental image. “What are you, then?”

“What do you think, stupid? I’m a demon. And I’m on a very important mission. The Top Mission, if you want to be technical.” Victoria smiled. And without further prompting, she went on, like she loved the sound of her voice. “I know you humans are slow, but we can walk and talk, right? Listen, I was not his first choice, but he picked me for a reason. I can get the job done, and he knows it. He did ask me to shut you up, but I didn’t wanna punch you. I kinda like your face. You can shut up without physical violence, can’t you?”

“Sure,” Castiel said, stepping away from Victoria in case she tried to hit him for answering.

“Lucifer doesn’t like to be bad mouthed,” Victoria said, rolling her eyes. “You’d think he had a pristine reputation. I mean, sometimes I wonder if he lives under a rock. Not in a bad way. I love you, Luci.” Victoria laughed again. “He’s always listening in to our conversations. Gotta save my skin.”

“Right.” Castiel’s head was spinning, so he tried to rein in the conversation. “So just to be clear, Lucifer sent you here to save Dean?”

“That’s right.” Victoria nudged him on the side. “We were hoping you noticed the Wanted posters earlier, but it took you guys a while. I would have stepped in sooner, but Lucifer thought you had it all under control. Guess you can’t be too trusting with you humans.”

“How was I supposed to know that we had to watch out for people too? Forgive me for not thinking everyone is our enemy.”

“You know, sarcasm doesn’t work well on you.” Victoria shook her head. “The delivery is all wrong. You’re very altered.”

“That’s because my husband was kidnapped!” Castiel nearly shouted.

“I’m going to punch you if you don’t lower your voice.” Victoria narrowed her eyes.

Castiel pressed his lips into a tight line. As grateful as he was for being sent a demon to help, he still had no guarantees they would find Dean unharmed. The angels had requested for Dean to be alive, not unharmed.

“Stop.” Victoria extended her arm to stop Castiel from taking another step.

They were in front of a garage attached to a broken-down house. There was a bright yellow glow underneath the door. Castiel heard a few muffled noises from the other side of the door.

“He’s in there?” Castiel asked.

Victoria reached behind her and pulled out a long knife. She held a finger to her lips, pointing with the knife to the front door of the house.

Castiel tried to open the door, but it was locked. Then he tried the window, and that opened effortlessly. Castiel let out a breath of relief as he climbed inside. Victoria was still standing outside the garage, holding the knife at the ready. Castiel stood inside the house, waiting for her to follow him in.

“Get to the garage from inside,” Victoria whispered.

“What about you?” Castiel whispered back.

“I’ll take care of them.”

Castiel decided to trust her. He searched blindly in the dark for the door that would lead to the garage. After a few failed attempts, Castiel finally found the right door, which opened up to pure chaos.

In the middle of the room Castiel spotted three bodies on the floor, their hands tied behind their backs and duct tape around their mouths. It was Dean, Leyna, and Sara. Itching to run towards them, Castiel took a step forward, but the group of armed men stopped him—even though all of them were aiming away from him.

Victoria stood in front of the garage, chin lifted. A cocky smile was plastered on her face, and she licked her lips, like she was savoring this moment. None of the guns on her fazed her.

“Drop the knife or I’ll shoot you,” a man called, with a shaky voice.

Victoria tilted her head. “Go ahead, big guy,” she challenged, raising an eyebrow. “I’m wide open.”

The man fired his gun, and Victoria ducked in time to miss a shot right to her head.

“You’re really bad at this,” Victoria said, still smiling.

Another shot was fired, at a closer distance, and Victoria rolled away from it without breaking a sweat. She was back on her feet, twisting the knife in her hands playfully. She burst into laughter, something joyous. She was having the time of her life. “Try it again. All of you, at the same time. Come on. Don’t be shy.”

As if on command, all of the men in the room fired their weapons. Victoria was a blur in the room, jumping and rolling and sliding successfully away from all of the shots that were flying in her direction. She was careful not to get too close to Dean and the girls, but Castiel was still clenching his fists and half-closing his eyes in case of a loose bullet. He wanted to get in there and untie them, but there was a man standing close to them, and Castiel had nothing to defend himself with.

Castiel rushed back inside the house, searching for something heavy and useful. The only thing he found was a baseball bat on a shelf, and he grabbed it. When he returned to the garage, the shots were still being fired, and Victoria was still running away from them, laughing. Castiel approached the man watching Dean and the girls, the only man who was only aiming his gun rather than shooting it. Castiel angled the bat against his shoulder, and then swung it with all his strength against the man’s head, knocking him unconscious. He fell with a thud, and Castiel swallowed, hoping he hadn’t killed him.

Castiel moved in automatic to kneel in front of Dean. With shaky hands, Castiel peeled off the duct tape from his mouth. Dean winced, and Castiel realized it was because his lip was busted, and there were bruises along the side of his face. Those fucking bastards.

 Dean inhaled a sharp breath, but he didn’t say anything. His green eyes, on the other hand, spoke volumes. Dean needed to get out of there. Castiel would get him to safety soon. He placed a hand on Dean’s face, gently, hoping the touch was reassuring enough to calm his nerves for the moment. Then he moved to untie his hands. Once free, Dean untied Leyna and Sara while Castiel removed the duct tape from their mouths. The girls gasped, and tried to speak, but Castiel pushed everyone inside the house as quickly as possible.

From the open door, Castiel watched with wide eyes as the guns stopped firing.

Something in the room shifted. Victoria was a machine, and her only purpose was killing. With only her knife, Victoria slashed through five throats and stabbed three other stomachs, successfully knocking down the entire group from the restaurant. Victoria finished off the guy Castiel had knocked out, smiling in his direction. All but one was dead. Jack remained alive, hiding in a corner, and his immediate response in his defense was firing his gun again.

Castiel flinched. His heart stopped when the bullets hit Victoria, one after another, sending her to her knees with the impact. Blood pooled out of her, staining her previously clean white shirt. Victoria gasped, touching the bullet-shaped holes in her chest and torso. Jack grinned as he stepped closer, radiating confidence. He angled the gun closer to Victoria, aiming for her head.

When Jack was two feet from her, Victoria tossed the red knife in her hand in his direction, and it landed right in between his eyebrows. The bald man landed with a hard thump on the concrete floor.

In a celebratory gesture, Victoria licked the blood off her fingers.

Castiel blinked, frozen in place. He wasn’t sure he could move his feet anymore.

“I hear them coming,” Victoria said, not bothering to turn to Castiel. She knew he was watching her. “You need to go now.”

Castiel shut the door to the garage and leaned against it.

Leyna was on her feet in a flash, and she drew Sara close, protective arms around her. “Who are you people?” Her gaze went from Dean to Castiel.

“I’m sorry you were caught up in the middle of this,” Castiel said.

“Cas, we should go,” Dean said, groaning as he took a step. He was clutching his stomach, and Castiel rushed to his side. “I heard them calling the angels. They wanted to turn me in.”

“I know,” Castiel said, holding onto Dean’s middle, draping one of his arms around his shoulders to balance him. “You’re right, though. Let’s get out of here.”

“If this were any other time, I’d do a happy dance because you admitted I’m right.” Dean groaned again, swallowing hard. Knowing Dean, it was easy to assume the pain he was enduring was ten times what he was showing, so Castiel tried not to think about it. He tried to rationalize it. Finding shelter was their priority right now.

“Come with us?” Castiel asked Leyna. “We’re not the bad guys here.”

“Why do the angels want you?” Leyna asked. “When you two disappeared to the kitchen, the men at the bar took out a Wanted poster with his face on it.” She tilted her chin at Dean. “They were planning on taking him to the angels. I tried to go to the kitchen to warn you, but they stopped me. They took me and Sara outside, and then dragged us to this place. So tell me _now_ , why do the angels want you?”

Castiel looked at Dean, wondering if he was in any shape to have this conversation at the moment.

“I killed an angel,” Dean muttered, shivering.

Castiel shifted Dean so he could take more of his weight on his shoulders. “We’re leaving. Are you guys coming or not?”

“No way,” Leyna said. “We almost died trying to save your asses.”

“I understand,” Castiel said, pushing past them, moving Dean along with him and trying to avoid stepping on a dead body.

“Who was your friend?” Sara asked.

Castiel stopped walking. He knew the things Victoria had done in there had been terrifying, but she had saved their lives. Castiel decided to focus only on that.

“She won’t harm you,” Castiel said. He looked at Leyna and Sara, and he wished he could do more for them, but it was out of his hands. Their near presence was a danger to them and to everyone else. “Try to be safe.”

Castiel tried not to think about safety. It was nothing more than an illusion for them now. Not only did they have to watch out for angels, but also for humans who were desperate for a reward of celestial value.

Their chances weren’t looking so great.


	10. Roads and Beginnings

Dean passed out as soon as they made it to the Impala. His sleep was short lived because the aching in his ribs kept waking him up. Every time he opened his eyes, he saw the half-shaped moon in the sky. It was the only light available to him aside from the headlights of the car.

He focused on the leather smell that always brought him comfort. It was the smell of his father. John had practically lived in the Impala before he met his mom. This car used to be the only home Dean had known for years. It was the only solid memory he had of his parents. It was all that had been left from that night. When he’d been old enough to drive, Dean took Sammy on long car trips and it was like they’d had their family back together. This car had been their most stable home for many years.

But then Dean met Castiel, and he found a different home in him. In Castiel he’d found the ordinary suburban life he’d always wanted. He’d found normal. He’d found safety. He’d found solace.

“Dean? Dean, can you hear me?”

Dean heard the mumbled words escaping him, but he wasn’t sure he was making any sense. He wanted to tell Castiel that he was alright, tell him not to worry. But he was so tired.

“Just drive,” Dean tried to say. “’S okay.”

“We’re almost there,” Castiel said.

The road got bumpy, and Dean felt something shatter inside him. He’d been punched and kicked several times, but he hoped nothing was broken. A few bruised ribs were fine, but he had no time for broken bones. Somewhere in between the exhausted groans, Dean lost consciousness again.

 

 

 

When Dean woke up again, he was in a bedroom. There was a light on in the room, but it was faint. Dean lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. A blanket covered the lower half of his body, and when he lifted it, he realized he was clad in his boxers. The lamplight allowed him to see the purple spots across his torso. He’d gotten the ass-kicking of his life. It hadn’t been the smartest move to struggle as he was dragged away by the men from the restaurant. There’d been a lot of them, and they’d all had some type of weapon pointed at him. Dean was surprised they hadn’t used them on him. He figured the angels would not appreciate a dead version of him. That would take away all the fun.

“Dean.”

Castiel was on the other side of the bed, fully clothed, sitting over the blanket. He was holding a water bottle in his hand, and after a few seconds of staring at it, Dean realized he was offering it to him.

Dean’s mouth was dry, and he could use a drink of water, but he knew he’d have to sit up to drink it, so he debated it.

“I’ll help you up,” Castiel said.

Sometimes they communicated telepathically. Or maybe they just knew each other too well. Either way, Dean was glad Castiel understood his hesitation.

Castiel pulled Dean up by his shoulders, fluffing the pillows behind him and setting them upright so when his back touched the headboard, it was comfortable. Dean bit his lip to stifle a groan, shifting ever so slightly until the pain diminished. Actually, the pain was not as terrible as it had been in the car. That was a good sign.

“I gave you pain killers when you woke up for a minute,” Castiel said, almost as if on cue. “Did they help?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Dean accepted the water, and he took a few careful gulps until he downed half of the bottle.

“I cleaned the wounds on your face,” Castiel said, his voice was rough and soft all the same. Dean would never get used to the feelings it stirred in him.

There weren’t any traces of blood when he licked his lips, but his lower lip still felt swollen. “I feel better. Thank you.”

Before Dean knew what was happening Castiel angled Dean’s face in his direction, caressing his thumb against his cheek. The way Castiel looked at him filled Dean with a deep love that he’d tried to repress during the months of their endless fights. That’s what Dean had done, repressed all the love he felt for his husband, because it was easier to be angry than to make things better for both of them. He wondered if Castiel felt the same way.

Castiel continued looking at him, his blue eyes reflected the soft light in the room. He wanted to make sure Dean was truly okay. When he was satisfied with what he saw, he lowered the hand holding Dean’s face and used it to take out a crumbled piece of paper from his pants. When he held it out to Dean, it took him longer than necessary to realize what Castiel was showing him. It was the famous Wanted poster that the group of men had been rambling about. It had Dean’s picture on it. A picture that he remembered being on their fridge when they’d left home.

“Where did they get that?” Dean asked.

Castiel folded up the paper again and set it on the nightstand beside him. “They must have gone to our house. It makes me sick to think that they ruined our home. I don’t know what else they took, but they’re clearly doing everything it takes to find you.”

“I’m not surprised, Cas. I killed one of them. I gave them something to be scared of. Now they want to prove their point by killing me.”

Castiel’s breath hitched. “Dean, I’m not liking this. When we set out on the road, I knew it would be dangerous, but this is starting to look like a suicide mission more than anything else. We don’t even have any weapons to defend ourselves from another attack. And I don’t know how much we can keep relying on cold-blooded demons to do the dirty job.”

Dean grimaced at the memory of the woman slicing throats left and right, like she was enjoying what she was doing, like it was the thrill of a lifetime. “Demon. That explains it.”

“Lucifer sent her,” Castiel said. “Who would have thought that we’d end up in a world trying to hide from angels and hoping for the devil’s mercy?”

Dean snorted. “This is so fucked up.”

“Have you given any consideration to the logistics of becoming an angel?” Castiel asked, his eyes fixed right on Dean again, with an intensity that Dean had grown used to over the years.

“Not really,” Dean confessed. “Not something I’m looking forward to.”

“I can’t imagine you being...not human.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his face, and it stung a bit. “Yeah, me neither.”

Castiel’s hand covered Dean’s hand on the bed, and Dean smiled faintly when he saw the ring that was still on his finger. “We’ll survive this, Dean. One way or another. We’ll get through it together.”

Dean turned his hand so their palms touched, and he twined their fingers, the rings on both sides. “I believe you.”

“You should get some sleep. We still have a long way to go.”

“Where did you find this place, anyway?” Dean asked.

“Abandoned house,” Castiel said with a shrug. “We’re finally outside of Texas. Somewhere in New Mexico.”

“Come here,” Dean said, tugging Castiel’s hand until he shifted around and his body curled against Dean’s. Carefully, Castiel rested his head on Dean’s shoulder, and he draped an arm gently over Dean’s torso. Seconds ticked by and Dean felt completely at ease. He pressed his lips against the top of Castiel’s head, and he curled his other arm around his back. Dean couldn’t remember the last time they were this close, without any anger seeping through. For the first time in a long time, Dean wasn’t afraid to do or say something that would set Castiel off.

Somehow, they’d found their peace among the madness.

Castiel lifted his head, met Dean’s eyes, and he kissed the corner of his mouth. “I really, really missed you.”

“I missed you too, Cas. I shouldn’t have yelled at you all those times,” Dean said, because he desperately wanted to turn back time, to when their lives were not in imminent danger. They wasted so much time arguing when they could have been doing this.

“I should have told you what was wrong,” Castiel said. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. We both made mistakes. But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to leave it all in the past. I don’t want to fuck this up again.”

“You didn’t do it alone,” Dean said, pressing a kiss to Castiel’s forehead.

They lay in a comfortable silence for a long while. Castiel traced soft patterns on Dean’s palm and pressed warm kisses on his shoulder, neck, face, until Dean could do nothing but close his eyes and feel. There was no urgency in his actions, but it was everything Dean had missed from their separation. This closeness was perfect, and Dean couldn’t get enough of it.

“We’ll find Anna,” Dean said abruptly. He wasn’t sure why he said it, even though the thought had been in his mind for quite some time. They’d been avoiding this subject, but Dean was done with poor communication.

Castiel paused his movements, his lips just below Dean’s ear. “Dean.”

“I know you’re worried,” Dean said. “I know you haven’t brought it up because you think it’ll create another argument. But I haven’t forgotten her. Not for one second. The first thing I’ll do when I’m—when I’m—”

“An angel.”

“The first thing I’ll do when I’m an angel is find your sister,” Dean said.

“What about the plan? What about Michael?”

“That can wait. I’m sure angels have some tracking mojo that I can use when the time comes. Either way, we’re going to find her.”

Castiel looked at Dean for a moment, and then he nodded. “I’d like that.”

Dean grinned widely and Castiel flushed, dipping his head. It was endearing, and Dean felt a jolt of pride at knowing he could still fluster Castiel after all this time. “You know that I love you, right?”

“It’s still nice to hear it.”

Dean closed his eyes and smiled when he felt a kiss to his nose.

 

*******

 

Castiel had been driving for six hours straight when he stopped for gas and lunch. Since they had a long drive to California, they’d set out first thing in the morning. Dean had insisted on taking turns driving, but Castiel had slapped Dean’s hands away from the wheel enough to get the point across.

The gas station wasn’t as full as the one in Denton had been. It was as though the more time passed, the decrease of the human population became more obvious. The thought alone startled Castiel, so he focused instead on filling up the tank. This gas station actually had an employee inside the store, and he was taking money, though he had a sign stating he was open to other forms of payment. Castiel just threw down the last of his cash and grabbed a few snacks for the road.

Once the tank was full, Castiel tossed a couple of Slim Jims to Dean and started the car.

“Ow, asshole, you hit me in the ribs,” Dean complained, squirming in the seat. “Did you at least get me a drink?”

“Water,” Castiel said, offering him a bottle.

Dean eyed the drink as though Castiel was offering him poison. “There wasn’t any Coke?”

“Coke won’t keep you hydrated,” Castiel said, getting back on the road. He maneuvered the wheel with his elbows as he tried to open a bag of Doritos.

“Fine, but that doesn’t mean I can’t drink both,” Dean grumbled.

“You already made me stop three times so you could take a piss. I’m not risking another stop for at least three hours. So drink slow and hold it in. You’re slowing us down.” Castiel took a mouthful of Doritos.

Dean grumbled something incoherently. He fell silent while he drank his water, and then he sprung back to run his mouth. “Oh, but don’t you forget that you stood right next to me to piss every single one of those times. You also had to go, but you were too chicken to stop and do it. Now you’re trying to put it all on me. I see right through you, fucker.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, pushing in the cassette tape, not bothering to check what was there. He was relieved to hear Elvis Presley. Listening to Led Zeppelin was getting old—not that Dean would agree.

_Mean Woman Blues_ started playing, but Castiel skipped to _(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear_ because that one was his favorite.

Dean snorted. “Nice way to shut me up.”

“I wasn’t trying to shut you up,” Castiel said, glancing briefly at Dean with a smile. “I have other, much better methods to do that.”

“Like what, you’re going to tape over my mouth?”

Castiel laughed. His flirting game must be truly weak if Dean didn’t catch the innuendo. “I think you forgot to take your painkillers, Dean. They’re in the glove compartment.”

Dean sighed, reaching over to take out the pills. He gulped them down with his water, and then proceeded to rip open one of his Slim Jims. “Thanks,” he said, as an afterthought.

“No problem.” Castiel spared another glance and caught Dean looking back. “What?”

“You were hitting on me before, weren’t you?”

“Judging by your reaction, I don’t think it worked.” Castiel laughed again. “Besides, I wasn’t _hitting_ on you. I already put a ring on it, so we’re way past that.”

Dean wheezed in laughter, and then groaned in pain. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“I wasn’t trying to. Not like I’m picturing you in a leotard and high heels singing next to Beyoncé.”

Dean threw back his head in laughter, followed again by a loud groan. “Ahh, I fucking hate you.”

“I love you, too.” Castiel smiled, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. Castiel knew he meant it, without a doubt. He knew that his mind had been clouded a few weeks ago, when he couldn’t feel anything but numbness. But now Castiel was sure that he had never stopped loving Dean for a second. And the feeling was…thrilling. “I _love_ you. God, I love you.”

Dean reached across the seat for Castiel’s hand, and he rubbed his thumb against it. “Hey, Cas?”

“Yeah?”

“Since you’re being nice right now, can I ask you a favor?”

Castiel gave Dean a sideways glance. “What favor?”

“Could you please pull over so I can take a piss?”

Castiel gaped at Dean, letting go of his hand. “I can’t fucking believe you! I told you when we were at the store to go, but you said you didn’t have to.”      

“I just drank all the water you gave me!” Dean said, throwing his arms out. “Why’d you bring me such a large water bottle, anyway?”

“You’re a fucking child.” Castiel moved to the side of the road, down to the field surrounding them. He turned off the car and glared at Dean. “Go. I’ll wait here for you.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to go too?”

“No.”

“But we’re on the same pee schedule.”

Castiel resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. So many eye rolls gave him a headache. “Go, Dean.”

“Alright, whatever you say.” Dean got out of the car and walked a few steps away with his back to the road.

Castiel tapped his fingers on the wheel, singing an Elvis song to himself. Then he started bouncing his leg. He glanced out at Dean, who kept looking back over his shoulder with a smirk. Castiel would not give him the satisfaction.

But it was stupid to hold it in, especially when the point of his speech was that the more they stopped, the more time it would take them to arrive. And not going now would mean that Castiel would eventually have to stop again, and soon.

Castiel cursed the angels and hopped out of the car, stomping his feet towards Dean.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean said, his voice light and giddy. “Glad to see you joining me once again on this nice patch of grass.”

“Shut up.”

Dean giggled and did a little dance once he tucked himself back in.

 

*******

 

Once they made it to California, Dean felt well enough to drive. It had taken a lot of convincing for Castiel to hand over the wheel, but eventually, he did. They only had a few hours left to get to Oakland, and Dean felt unusually upbeat. He’d missed the feeling of driving his Impala, and having Castiel on the passenger seat, smiling at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. There was a new energy between them, something intense and electric. Dean swelled with pride every time he looked over at Castiel, so he did it often.

“Why are you staring, Dean? Watch the road.”

“I can multi-task.”

“Sure you can.”

“Hey, hand me the Zeppelin tape, would you?”

Castiel sighed, digging through the box under the seat. He’d always complained about Dean’s taste in music, but Dean had compromised by listening to all of Castiel’s favorite pop songs. If the Impala was equipped for it, they would be listening to Lady Gaga at the moment. But because there was still some good in the universe, they were stuck with Dean’s cassette tapes.

Once Castiel inserted the tape, Dean scanned to the right track. _Black Dog_ was one of his favorites. And he knew for a fact that Castiel was fond of it too.

_Hey, hey, baby, when you walk that way, watch your honey drip, can’t keep away._

Dean shook his head to the beat, and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He glanced at Castiel, who was chewing off a grin. With his window rolled down, the wind was blowing his hair, making it wilder than usual. He looked perfect.

Dean rolled down his own window, and then he sang along.

_Eyes that shine, burning red, dreams of you all through my head._

Castiel was full-on grinning now, like a total sap. And Dean loved it.

_Hey, hey, baby, oh baby, pretty baby, darling can’t you do me now?_

There was a deep laughter coming from the passenger seat, and it only made Dean sing louder, singing entirely off key, but not giving a single damn about it. The music and laughter blended together in harmony, filling the car to the brim. Dean had never felt so light.

_Push it, baby, push it, babe. Ooh, I’d really like to do it now._

Dean lowered the volume enough to be heard over the song. This time, Castiel didn’t even try to hide the wide smile on his face, the one that wrinkled his nose and brought out his crow’s feet. Despite those details, Castiel looked ten years younger. God, Dean had missed that smile.

“You like that one, don’t you?” Dean asked, winking.

Castiel laughed. “It brings back good memories.”

Dean licked his lips. “Damn right it does.”

_Black Dog_ had been playing in the background during his first night with Castiel. It’d happened in Dean’s ratty old apartment, on their second date—because they’d been too drunk on their first. It had been storming outside, which was the perfect excuse to ask Castiel to stay the night. And even though his intentions had been entirely innocent at first, the night took a different course after a few beers on Dean’s couch.

At the time, Castiel had dropped all pretenses about liking classic rock. Dean had gasped overdramatically when Castiel had confessed that his music taste was more in line with whatever tracks were played on the pop stations. He liked getting lost in the repetitiveness of the music, especially since it was the type of music he listened while he worked at the Roadhouse. Dean had understood, because from the moment they’d met and Castiel didn’t laugh at his jokes when he didn’t find them funny, he knew that the man was as honest as they came. And instead of being offended, Dean found him fascinating.

So when their second date had taken a turn, and Dean realized Castiel would spend the night for the first time, his nerves hit the roof. Dean played some Zeppelin to keep his cool, and Castiel didn’t protest at all. In fact, he’d looked just as nervous as Dean, which, granted, did help the situation slightly.

As the music played, Dean finished the last of his beer and pretended to check his watch. He mumbled something about heading to bed, and after a moment, asked if Castiel wanted to join him. Castiel had blushed in an endearing way that Dean would never get tired of seeing, and he followed Dean to his bedroom. When they’d found themselves alone, neither of them made a move. Castiel had seemed genuinely curious about Dean’s bookshelves, holding a variety that ranged from Vonnegut to Orwell to Austen, because Jane Austen was a kickass author and she deserved to be read by everyone.

Castiel picked up a worn copy of _Of Mice and Men_ , kicked off his shoes, and sprawled on Dean’s bed, looking right at home. After a bit of hesitation, Dean joined him, keeping a bit of space between them, in case he was reading things wrong. Castiel started reading the book out loud, his voice rough and solid above the music in the living room. Feeling bold, Dean lay his head on Castiel’s shoulder, and listened to his deep voice as he continued reading.

Outside, there’d been thunder, and the hard rain had beaten against the windows.

Sometime later, while Dean had flipped in and out of consciousness, he’d felt Castiel’s hand on his hair, fingers combing it gently. The flutter in Dean’s heart had woken him up better than caffeine ever had, and he’d glanced up at Castiel, dark blue eyes meeting his with something like reverence. They’d kissed, then, because Dean had been all out of words. And Castiel had sighed into his mouth, sliding down on the bed until they were completely horizontal, and until Castiel shifted over him. With both of their hands tangled, and fingers laced together, Castiel had kissed and kissed him, like he couldn’t get enough of him. Dean squeezed Castiel’s hands, licking Castiel’s lips open, swallowing down his gasps.

_Eyes that shine, burning red, dreams of you all through my head._

 

They made it to Oakland before midnight, thanks to Dean’s speeding. It wasn’t like there were cops around to do their jobs.

Dean had been to California before. Sam had gone to Stanford, so Dean had found a good excuse to drive down a few times a year. That was before he’d ever met Castiel. He’d spent a lot of time on these streets, doing nothing he was particularly proud of. Mostly, he’d taken to drinking excessively, hooking up with the first person that looked his way, and repeating the process.

It wasn’t until his relationship with Lisa—his longest relationship at the time, with six months and two days, to be exact—that he’d finally decided to settle down. He’d even considered moving to California, just to be closer to her. The long-distance thing wasn’t working for either of them. But just before things got too serious between them, she dropped the bomb that she had a son, a cute five-year old named Ben, whom she had been hiding from Dean for fear of scaring him away. Dean had been twenty-six at the time, and having a kid was nowhere near his radar. Not only that, but the fact that Lisa had hidden something so big from him was a whole other issue. So, he broke it off, and he never saw her again.

Three years later, Dean had met Castiel. And commitment didn’t seem like such a scary thing with him.

“Dean, where are you?”

Dean blinked, glancing at Castiel for as long as he could without crashing the Impala. “I was just thinking about commitment.”

Castiel turned on the seat, angling his body to face Dean entirely. “Yeah? Are you getting cold feet? I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that.”

Dean snorted. “You shut your mouth, you’re not getting rid of me.”

Castiel laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Dean was glad they could joke about this now. A few weeks ago, Dean had to watch every word he said to Castiel, for fear that he’d send him running out the door forever. That had been one of the worst feelings, and he hoped he never had to feel that way again.

More somber, Dean said, “No, I meant, I was thinking about how easy it was to be with you. At the beginning, nothing felt difficult between us. I’m pretty sure I would have married you if you’d had a kid already.”

“That’s a very odd thing to say, Dean.”

Dean chuckled, looked over at Castiel, who was watching him intently. “Yeah, I know. I guess it’s because I’m back here after so long, but I was thinking about someone I haven’t thought of in years.”

“Ah, I see.” Castiel smiled when Dean met his eyes. “Lisa?”

“Kinda weird to think about an ex after all these years. Feels like she’s a ghost.”

“Well, she was important to you, Dean. It’s understandable that you remember her.”

Dean shook his head. “What are the chances she’s still alive? She was a yoga instructor, but I’m sure the angels justified killing her somehow.”

“This is why we’re doing this, isn’t it? To stop the irrational killing of innocent people. That’s what we need to focus on. You’re going to end this, Dean, and I’m going to help you in any way I can.”

Dean didn’t want to think of _how_ he would end it. Of everything he had to do—to sacrifice—in order to end the world’s destruction. But he put on a brave face for Castiel. “Yeah, we’re going to win this thing. We’re gonna kick some feathery angel ass.”

And part of him really believed it.


	11. Flame IV

The night was dark.

Anna was losing confidence. In bright daylight, she hadn’t been able to shoot one can until hours of practice. How could she possibly kill an angel when she couldn’t even see the moon’s crescent clearly?

Fortunately, Raejean had gotten good at reading her over the past few days. Raejean held her by the shoulders, looking right into her eyes.

“I know you’re only human. Even if you had some crazy night vision, you wouldn’t be able to see them.”

“What do you mean?” Anna furrowed her eyebrows.

“They travel fast, but never in group, and they’re always on a specific mission, which means they don’t get distracted easily.” Raejean glanced up, narrowing her eyes. “There’s thousands of them. I’ll be your eyes. All you have to do is aim, and trust me.”

_I trust you._ “Sounds simple enough.”

“Believe me, I’d shoot them if I could.”

“Why can’t you? You never told me.”

Raejean dropped her hands. “I can’t do anything that alerts them of my presence. If word gets out that a demon hurt an angel in any way, the Big One will be instantly blamed. If Lucifer goes down, so does the entire system. And then we can kiss goodbye any chance of fighting back because both of us will cease to exist.”

Anna blinked, trying to hide her surprise. “Well, then I guess I better step up.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Of course I do. This is exactly what I needed.”

Raejean glanced at her with a funny expression before shaking her head. “Aim upwards. Do you see the rooftop of that building? About ten feet to the left, hold steady.”

Anna followed directions, forcing her hands not to shake. She couldn’t see anything. But Raejean could. And she trusted her. More than she was willing to admit.

_I trust you_. _Don’t make me regret it._

“Hold.”

She held.

“Now.”

She fired.

Just once.

They took off running towards the loud thud that landed about half a mile away from them. Anna could hear her heartbeat. Raejean could run faster, but she slowed down so they could run at the same pace. It made her smile. Not the best time to smile, maybe.

“It’s dead,” Raejean said, slowing down a few feet away from the limp body.

Anna poked one of his broken wings with her shotgun. The angel twitched. Anna locked eyes with Raejean. Just like they’d planned, Raejean covered the angel with gasoline. Anna took out a matchbook from her jeans and lit one match. She tossed it at the angel, and was quickly drawn back by a mighty arm around her waist.

“Not so close to the fire,” Raejean said tightly, pulling her even farther away. “In case you didn’t know, it burns.”

Anna smiled. “I’m not afraid of fire.”

“I can see that.”

Anna walked backwards, towards their bikes, while staring at the powerful flames that were growing in spikes. The orange and yellow hues blended beautifully together. The fire looked so pure. Its only purpose was to burn and continue burning. She could not look away.

“Rae, do you think I’d make a good demon?”

“That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Not every answer needs an explanation.”

“Yours does.”

They had reached their bikes, and both climbed on. Anna didn’t want their conversation to end, but they were no longer safe here. Not with what they’d just done. Not even with the blocker around her neck.

“Will you answer me later?” she asked, starting the rumbling engine.

Raejean hesitated. “If I’m in a good mood.”

“How can I get you in a good mood?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“What, our first angel kill didn’t improve your mood?”

Raejean laughed. “You really don’t know me, do you?”

_Don’t I?_ “I guess not.”

In the far distance, she heard the sound of wings. Any trace of a smile vanished from her face. Her pulse sped. Anna nodded once at Raejean before they set off back on the road.


	12. Love and Other Things

They found the Best Buy after a lot of screaming at each other.

It was an ordinary Best Buy. The navy-blue building looked plain in the dark, and the glass walls and windows were covered up with what looked like elegant maroon curtains. In the haze of the events that had recently transpired, Castiel hadn’t considered the fact that there were advertisements for the so-called game show. Successful advertisement, judging by the number of cars filling up the parking lot.

Aside from the cars, there were tents crowding the space. Most surprisingly, a few people were actually having tailgate parties. The entire scene looked like an ordinary Black Friday/Pre-Game All-American tradition combined, which was the strangest thing of all.

Since there was no available parking in the area, they were forced to park on the next street over and walk the rest of the way.

Halfway there, Castiel gripped Dean’s shoulder to stop him.

“You can’t come with me,” Castiel said.

“Why not?” And then it dawned on him. “Crap. I’m a wanted man.”

“Yeah, small detail.”

Dean groaned, looking longingly at the Best Buy parking lot that smelled like a perfect summer barbecue. “I was really craving a burger.”

Castiel smiled fondly, squeezing Dean’s shoulder before dropping his hand. “Here’s the deal. You go wait in the car while I go get some info on the game show. With all these people here, I’m guessing there’s some sort of auditioning process.”

“Aw, hell. Lucifer, I swear, next time I see you I’m kicking your ass.”

“Easy there, babe. Our fearless leader has eyes and ears everywhere, and I happen to know he has a sore spot for insults and threats.”

Dean snorted. “What’s he gonna do to me? I’m already his bitch.”

Castiel sighed, crossing his arms. He really wished he had some duct tape handy because Dean sure as hell did not have an off button on him. “Dean, get in the car, and I’ll bring you a burger.”

At that, Dean broke into a full smile that reached his eyes. “I knew I married you for a reason.”

“That reason was supposed to be love.”

Dean clapped Castiel’s shoulder before turning back to the car. “Yeah, that too!”

Castiel rolled his eyes, making his way to the festive parking lot. The air was filled with smoke, but the pleasant kind. Beef patties, hot dogs, and a few pork chops were being grilled in a few spots, and Castiel walked past them, nodding at the friendly-looking people. A few of them offered him a hot dog and a beer, and Castiel saw his opening. He leaned on a blue pickup while he ate his hot dog in a few mouthfuls, realizing how hungry he was. After eating nothing but junk food throughout the day, this was the most sophisticated meal he’d had in days.

As he sipped his beer, he joined in the conversation the couple beside him were having.

“When did you say the doors will open?” Castiel asked.

The tall woman in a messy pant suit sipped her soda. “Doors open at ten on the dot. Every day, or so we’ve heard. We’ve only been here two days, but that’s been the case so far. Some of these people have been here since the beginning. Seven days ago.”

“What’s the choosing process?”

The woman sighed, like it was the end of the world and she was tired. “Well, an angel shows up, scans the area of any trespassing enemy angels, and then he picks three people he likes. Last time he made us have wrestling contests for his own entertainment, but he picked someone else at random. And I know one time they had a dance off, but again, the angel just went with whoever he wanted. There’s no way of telling who they’ll pick. We’re all just sort of hoping we’re the lucky ones.”

A week into this mess, Castiel was not surprised to hear that the angels acted on impulse alone. They did as they pleased with humans, treating them as nothing more than puppets for their games. If they killed without any clear order, why should they show order anywhere else?

“Wait, you said enemy angels?”

“Yeah,” the woman said, shrugging. “Something like that. From what I’ve heard, the angel running this show is an archangel, Gabriel. He’s doing this against another archangel’s orders. Michael. I’m assuming he’s the one responsible for killing us off. Rumor has it Michael’s been trying to sneak angels in to put an end to the game show, or Gabriel himself, but so far, no one has made it through. If any of Michael’s angels make it through, then it’s game over for all of us.”

Castiel hummed in thought. Everything made perfect sense, especially after what Lucifer himself had shared before. Still, Castiel wondered why Gabriel had gone so far as to betray his own brother. Could this Gabriel be a somewhat decent angel? If he truly wanted to help humanity by turning them into angels, couldn’t he just do it without the game show? What was the point of that extra step? More importantly, why couldn’t this Gabriel just kill of Michael himself? Was he too cowardly to face his brother?

“Want another beer?” a scruffy-looking man asked, holding out a beer.

Castiel accepted it and thanked him, and then he asked for a burger. When he got back to the car, Dean was lying on the front seat, drumming his hands to Zeppelin. _Black Dog_ again. Castiel smiled, a faint blush on his cheeks. He had to admit that Dean’s music was not bad at all. But it was no fun telling him that.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Castiel said.

Dean sat up immediately, lowering down the music. Castiel scooted in through the passenger side. Dean beamed at the burger, like a child opening up a present. “Ah, sweet. This smells so good.”

As Dean ate, Castiel told him the information he’d gathered. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough. At least now they knew when to make an appearance again. For now, there was nothing else they could do but wait.

“That was a damned good burger, Cas.” Dean licked his lips and chugged the rest of his beer, letting out a loud burp at the end.

Castiel looked at him. “I’m glad the romance is still alive.”

Dean smiled and winked at him, swiping his greasy fingers over Castiel’s cheek. “Love your peach fuzz.”

Castiel chuckled. “I suggest we find a place to sleep, unless you want to spend the night in the car at an abandoned parking lot.” They were outside of an old warehouse building, completely desolate.

“It’s probably best if we wait it out here. Just in case there’s more traffic in the morning and we get jammed.”

Castiel sighed. As little as the idea appealed to him, he agreed.

Half an hour later, Dean had his head on Castiel’s lap, drumming his hands to another Zeppelin song. _Custard Pie_. Castiel really like that one too. He didn’t realize he was smiling until Dean pointed it out.

“I wasn’t smiling because of the song,” Castiel said. “Go to sleep.”

Dean poked his side, though Castiel wasn’t very ticklish. “Cas, you _do_ realize that tonight is the last night I’ll spend as a human, don’t you? I mean, do you really just want me to go to sleep?”

Shifting on the seat, Castiel glanced at Dean’s face on his lap. Castiel cupped Dean’s cheek, swiping his thumb over his cheekbones full of freckles. Even though it was dark, Castiel knew where each of them were. Then he traced Dean’s still swollen lip.

“You’re hurt, Dean,” Castiel muttered.

“I’m alright.”

“Are you? I mean, are you okay with all of this?” Castiel hesitated. “You made this deal selflessly, but you didn’t have much time to think it through. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to back out of it now.”

Dean swallowed, and Castiel traced the movement with his thumb. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about all of this. It’s what I _need_ to do, Cas. For you, for Sam, Jess, Charlie, Bobby, Ellen, Jo. You’re all counting on me. If this is what will help you, then this is what I’ll do. The rest doesn’t matter to me.”

“Well, it matters to me. _You_ matter to me. And I need to know how you really feel about this. About becoming someone else. We don’t really know much about what will change when you’re one of them.”

Dean sighed, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I don’t know, Cas. Every time I think about becoming a feathery ass angel, I feel sick. What does that tell you?”

“It’s okay for you not to want this,” Castiel said, running his fingers through Dean’s hair. It was thicker than usual. He needed a haircut—and a shower.

“I have to want this,” Dean whispered, opening his eyes and gluing them to Castiel. “I have to.”

Castiel shook his head, bending down to press his lips on Dean’s forehead. Then he kissed his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, his lips.

Dean stared at him when he pulled away, and then he tugged him back down by the shoulders. Their lips pressed again in a chaste kiss that was slow and sweet like it hadn’t been in a while. Dean wound his hands around Castiel’s neck, pulling him even closer as he licked his lips and pressed his tongue inside. There was sudden desperation in the kiss, and longing that Castiel recognized went both ways.

Before he knew it, Dean was straddling his lap, carding his fingers through Castiel’s hair, yanking it softly. When Dean took Castiel’s lips between his teeth, the sound that Castiel let out was almost inhuman. All that Castiel knew at the moment was his need to touch, taste, and feel the warmth of the man he loved more than anything.

“Dean,” he breathed, circling his hands around Dean’s waist, and sneaking them under his shirt until he touched his warm skin. Castiel dug his fingertips into Dean’s lower back, swallowing the groan that Dean emitted.

“Missed you,” Dean said, angling their mouths again, and any reply Castiel could have given disappeared. Dean’s tongue brushed the top of his mouth, and Castiel arched his back against the seat. “Fuck,” Dean whispered against his lips, breaking off the kiss only to press open-mouthed kisses to Castiel’s neck.

Castiel threw his head back while Dean’s mouth ran up and down his neck, slowing down when he started to thrust. Castiel hadn’t realized that Dean was mirroring his movements. They were both dry-humping each other in the front seat of a car. Castiel burst into laughter.

Dean pulled away slightly, brow furrowed. “Think I missed the punch line.”

Castiel laughed again, kissing the frown off Dean’s face. “We’re acting like horny teenagers.”

“So?”

Castiel moved his hands that were on Dean’s back further south, until they dug into his waistband, and he grabbed a fistful of ass. “I love you, Dean, so I’d like to fuck you somewhere nicer.”

Dean sighed, pressing his forehead against Castiel’s, his breathing slowing down. “We’ve fucked in my car more than once.”

“Hmm, I remember.” Castiel grinned. “But circumstances were different. We weren’t married then. Besides, you complained about your back for days on end.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a serious case of blue balls.”

Castiel held onto Dean tighter as he tried to move away. “I didn’t say we couldn’t do other things.”

Dean beamed. “Backseat?”

“That would be preferable.”

Without missing a beat, Dean scurried to the backseat, knocking off his boots as he went. Castiel laughed again, removing his own shoes as he followed behind.

Dean sprawled on the seat, wiggling out of his jeans enthusiastically. Grinning, Castiel crawled over his body, slotting their lips together. Dean sighed into him, his hands pulling on Castiel’s shirt until he slipped out of it. Castiel licked Dean’s lips until his lips parted and he moved his tongue inside. Every little moan he got from Dean urged him on, but Castiel went slow, slow, pressing his lips down Dean’s jaw, loving the stubble there. Castiel left a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way to Dean’s neck, where he nipped on his soft skin, making Dean arch underneath him.

“Cas,” Dean gasped, tangling his fingers in Castiel’s hair and tilting his head so Castiel had a better angle.

Castiel sucked on the spot he’d bitten, and then slid Dean’s shirt off. Hundreds of freckles on his chest were uncovered, beautifully displayed, and Castiel spread his hands over them. Dean bit on his lip as Castiel flicked one of his nipples before taking it in his mouth.

“Ah, fuck,” Dean cried out, his hands tightening in Castiel’s hair.

Castiel moved down Dean’s torso, careful with his bruised ribs, his lips barely touching him. When Castiel dug his fingertips in the waistband of Dean’s boxer briefs, Dean swallowed audibly. Smiling, Castiel lowered the last piece of clothing Dean wore, his throbbing cock leaking. Castiel licked his lips before taking the tip to his mouth and sucking hard enough to get a few more moans out of Dean.

Dean continued holding onto Castiel’s hair as Castiel swallowed more of him, cupping his balls. A sharp gasp, followed by a shudder. Dean was lost in the pleasure, and Castiel couldn’t look away. They’d done this countless times before, but Castiel would never grow tired of witnessing Dean’s reactions, the way he lost control at Castiel’s hands.

“Mmm,” Castiel hummed, pulling back slightly, enough that he could fist his hand around Dean’s cock while he continued sucking it. Dean thrust a few times, but it wasn’t rough. They’d learned each other’s pace over the years. That’s how Castiel knew Dean was close. Fingers tightened in his hair, and Dean shuddered again, uttering incoherent whispers.

Dean yelled with his release, and Castiel swallowed down every last drip. Castiel pulled away and wiped his lips with the back of his hand before Dean tugged him back down, gripping his shoulders. They kissed chastely, as though they had all the time in the world. Teeth clashed, and tongues moved slowly, in the sweet gentle way of their first few kisses. There was nervousness in the simple action of kissing, and it sparked a fire in Castiel’s belly that had faded with time.

Before he knew it, Dean’s hand was working to remove Castiel’s jeans. Hands fumbled, and they laughed, but then things got serious again once Castiel’s jeans and boxers were off. Dean gripped Castiel’s cock and stroked him in earnest. “Fuck, Dean,” Castiel whispered against his lips, and Dean kissed him again.

“You’re beautiful,” Dean whispered against his lips. “So beautiful.”

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was rough when he spoke.

That made Dean smirk.

Dean continued working Castiel to his climax, and when Castiel came all over Dean’s stomach, his smirk turned into a full-on grin.

Castiel hovered on top of Dean, careful not to lay on the mess he’d left behind, but Dean didn’t seem to care, pulling him back in his arms. “Ugh, we don’t have anything to clean ourselves up, Dean.”

Dean looked up at him, face only a few inches apart. “I don’t care.” He pressed their lips together, and they didn’t break apart for a long while. It was as though all either of them cared about was the closeness and nothing else. The closeness that had been gone for miserable months.

“We fogged up the windows,” Castiel whispered.

At that, Dean laughed, a carefree sound that filled the small space around them. “Yeah, good job, baby.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Blame _me_ , why don’t you?”

Dean laughed softly and pecked Castiel on the lips. “Last-night-on-earth-as-human sex is good.”

Castiel frowned. “Don’t phrase it like that. You won’t be less than human. You’ll be more.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah right. I’ll be a winged killing machine. That’s not better than being human.”

If Castiel could, he would take Dean’s place. He wanted that more than anything. To take that weight off of Dean’s shoulders. To carry Dean’s cross so Dean didn’t have to. Castiel knew that Dean had wanted that as well when he’d learned about Castiel’s past with his father.

There were many things Castiel wished he could change, but there was only so much supernatural power to go around.

Could angels heal people from memories? From injuries? If angels could cause so much death and destruction, couldn’t they also heal and repair?

“Hand me my shirt, would ya?” Dean asked, leaning up on his elbows.

Castiel found Dean’s shirt wrinkled on the car floor and handed it over, his mind far away. He hardly noticed when Dean wiped him clean with his shirt, though he didn’t fail to comment on how gross it was.

“It’s the end of the world, baby,” Dean said.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Castiel said, lowering back on the seat, fitting himself behind Dean, and throwing an arm around his waist. Dean placed his hand over Castiel’s hand on his stomach and laced their fingers together. Castiel pressed his lips to the back of Dean’s neck to keep his thoughts from drifting again.

After a while, Dean broke the silence. “Cas, maybe this is a dumb question, but…will you still love me when I’m an angel?”

Castiel blinked. “There is nothing in the world that could change the way I feel about you, Dean.”

Dean shifted until he was on his back, staring up at Castiel with clear green eyes. “That’s good, ‘cause I don’t intend to lose you again. You hear me? You’re stuck with me till we both die of old age, at the same time, right after we have sex for the last time.”

Castiel burst into laughter, hiding his face in Dean’s neck. “You’ve really put some thought into how we’re going to die. Should I be concerned?”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules. That’s just how it’s gonna happen. Already saw it.”

Castiel laughed harder. “You saw the future, Dean?”

Smiling, Dean nodded firmly. “Oh, yeah. We only have two kids, but they’re twins, and they’re a handful. You’re a soccer dad, but I’m not. I’m the cool dad who takes them camping and to concerts on school nights. Then we have four grandkids, who we spoil because we can. We always buy them ice cream before dinner, and we let them watch scary movies they’re not supposed to watch. It’s a sweet life.”

Of all the things Castiel had imagined, nothing could top this. Dean wanted a long, simple, ordinary life with him. And right now, in the middle of this nonsensical madness, Castiel wanted that more than anything. He wanted that life with Dean.

And he would do whatever it took to get it.

 

 *******  

 

The next morning, Dean found himself in a poor disguise made up of sunglasses, a bulky jacket, and an old blue beanie that belonged to Castiel. The getup was to prevent anyone from recognizing his face plastered everywhere, though he wasn’t sure how effective it was. He had a pretty nice face, one that was hard to forget.

“You have an average face, Dean,” Castiel said, when Dean pointed out his concern for the fourth time.

“Don’t you dare say my face is average when I happen to know how much you enjoy licking whip cream—and other sweet things—off of it.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but there was a slight flush to his cheeks. “Sure, Dean, whatever you say.”

When they made it to the area near the front entrance of the Best Buy, they found where all the noisy excitement was coming from. The large crowd that filled all the way to the street had created a circle, where a few people were performing what looked like magic tricks, though they weren’t all that impressive. Mostly beginner stuff.

They dug through the crowds until they made it to the front row of the clearing. Dean was not afraid of elbowing people out of the way, but Castiel was nicer about it, offering apologies as he went.

“What’s going on here?” Dean asked. The question had been directed to Castiel, but the man beside him answered.

“They’re practicing until the angel shows.” The man was young and attractive, blondish, with a pensive frown. “Adam,” he said, offering his hand.

Dean shook his hand. He almost gave him his real name, but quickly came up with an alternative instead. “Zeppelin. And this is…” Castiel was not by his side anymore. In a crowd so big, Dean feared he would never locate his husband again, but he found him seconds later, approaching a woman across the circle. “Sorry, gotta go.” Dean trailed after Castiel, not wanting to lose him.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Clarence, in all his grace and glory.” The dark-haired woman was short, dressed in a tracksuit. She looked ready for a fight, or to run a marathon if it came to it. Her crooked smile was warm and genuine when she spotted Castiel.

“Meg,” he said, a little breathless, hands digging into the pockets on his jacket. “I haven’t—you look—what the hell are you doing here?”

“You mean, how am I still alive?” Meg said with a chuckle. “Well, handsome, I have my ways. I’m a survivalist. But don’t you worry your pretty little head about me. I’m here to win today.”

Castiel gaped at her, blinking, as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. When Dean cleared his throat, Castiel finally noticed he’d followed him, and he looked flustered. “Dean.”

“Who’s this?” Dean asked, looking from Castiel to Meg, trying to find a connection. There was no resemblance, so they couldn’t be relatives. Besides, Castiel had never spoken about anyone in his life named Meg.

“Meg, this is Dean,” Castiel said, swallowing. “Dean, Meg.”

Dean furrowed his brow. Castiel was definitely feeling guilty about something, but Dean couldn’t figure out what it was. “Hi, Meg. I’m sorry to sound like an asshole, but Cas never mentioned you before. Are you old friends?”

“No, Dean,” Castiel said, before Meg had the chance to answer. “Meg is…she’s my ex-wife.”

Meg shrugged helplessly when Dean looked at her for answers.

“Come again?” Dean asked Castiel. “How is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”

“Look, Dean, now’s not really the time,” Castiel said, looking around them, self-consciously. They had a few pairs of eyes on them. By now, the crowd had decided that their erupting little spat was far more interesting than the amateur magicians.

“You must be the current spouse,” Meg said to Dean. “Look, sweetums, what happened between me and Castiel is ancient history. It was barely history.”

“You two were married,” Dean said, and the words sounded strange coming out of his mouth.

“I was twenty-two,” Castiel said, running his hands over his face, like he couldn’t believe they were actually having this conversation in front of an enormous audience. “I was fresh out of college. Meg was my best friend, and I felt comfortable around her. Meanwhile, I had my father pressuring me to love a woman, so I did what I had to do to get him off my back. I married Meg, and our marriage lasted a week before I got it annulled because…because the marriage was never consummated.” Castiel looked mortified by the entire thing, and Dean suddenly understood why he had kept it a secret all this time.

“Well, shit.” Dean placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I know I should have come clean about this sooner, Dean, but I just—”

“Hey, Cas, it’s alright. I get why you did it. Seriously. We’re okay.”

“My, my, Clarence, I think this one’s a keeper,” Meg said. “Pretty face, too.”

Dean couldn’t help the smirk on his face. “You hear that, Cas? Pretty face.”

“Are you serious, you petty little humans?”

The voice came from above. All heads titled up, including Dean’s. An angel flew above them, gray wings flapping calmly. This angel looked more human than most, with a pair of jeans and an orange hoodie. He was young too, resembling a teenager.

“I wanted a show, but this is all I get?”

After a tense moment, Dean realized he was looking over at them.

“I spent a lot of time watching human television shows,” the angel continued. “There’s always drama between couples. Especially when there’s a love triangle. And now that there’s a real-life love triangle in front of me, you decide not to fight with each other? What kind of game is this? I don’t believe you. I think you can do much better than that.”

Dean looked from the angel, to Castiel, then Meg, and back to Castiel. “I think he wants us to fight.”

“Like, physically?” Castiel wondered.

“Maybe words will do,” Meg said. “Let’s start with that.” She cleared her throat. “Yeah, that’s right, Dean-o, I was married to your husband first. He loved _me_ first. And even though he claims he’s gay, I don’t buy it. Not for one second. I know that, deep down, my sweet, darling Clarence only truly loves me.” Meg touched a hand to her heart, and a tear ran down her cheek.

_Not bad._

Dean looked at Castiel, mouthed _sorry_ , and then rolled up his jacket sleeves. “Oh yeah? Well, I lied before, Meg. Castiel did mention you many times during our marriage. He always talked about you, but I chose to ignore it. And now, now it’s too late. I kept him away from you long enough. He doesn’t love you anymore. He loves me. He had no other choice. So you need to turn around and go back where you came from. I can’t believe you followed us all the way here.”

And then, the unexpected happened. Meg slapped Dean across the face, in a slap that was loud and just dramatic enough. And it stung. A lot.

“Aw, fuck.” Dean touched his cheek, wincing.

Castiel fussed over him, removing his hand to see how bad it was. “It’s pretty red,” he said.

“No shit,” Dean muttered.

“That’s what you get for stealing my man,” Meg said, crossing her arms and tapping her foot for effect. She was really in character.

“Okay, okay, you three can stop that now,” the angel said. “The boss wants me to get back with the contestants, so I guess you’re it. Hang on tight.”

With the snap of his fingers, the angel made all three of them disappear, and reappear a few moments later—during which Dean lost all consciousness, and probably also ten years of his life.

They were in a comfortable-looking room. It had two purple couches, a coffee table with a bowl full of candy, a fridge, a pool table, and a big bright mirror over a counter full of makeup. It looked like a backstage room.

Dean touched his limbs to make sure he was still whole, and then did the same to Castiel. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

Dean nodded, looking over to Meg. She was already digging into the fridge.

“You guys want anything?”

“Sprite,” Castiel said.

“Nothing for me,” Dean said.

Castiel held Dean’s face in his hands. “Hey.”

Dean looked at him, trying to make sense of everything that had happened in such a short amount of time.

“We made it. We’re here. We’re going to be on the show. We’re just one step away.”

“I can do this,” Dean said, more to himself than to Castiel.

“ _We_ can do this.”

Meg joined them, handing Castiel his Sprite, and an ice pack for Dean. “Put this on your cheek. I hate to ruin such a pretty face.”

Dean frowned, but the ice did help a little. “You didn’t have to slap me.”

“Quit complaining. We’re here.”

“Yeah, about that,” Dean said, wincing as the ice hit a sore spot. “We really need to win this thing. For the greater good of humanity.”

Meg scoffed. “Are you asking me to let you win? Because there’s no way I’m doing that.”

“Meg, this is our one chance to end this destruction,” Castiel said, leaving his Sprite behind on the table as he joined Meg on the couch. “We drove all this way so we could be here, so Dean could become an angel and destroy the archangel responsible for all of this.”

“You think _that’s_ going to end this?” Meg snorted. “Listen, Clarence, I love you, kid, I do. But you’re way too naïve if you believe you can stop this madness. We’re all fucked. The only ones who aren’t are the angels, hence the need to win this thing.”

“We have word from Lucifer that this can be done,” Dean said. “But it has to be done this way. I need to win.”

Meg flicked her eyes from Dean to Castiel, and back again. Then she took a deep breath. “Yeah, sorry, boys, but that’s not happening. But hey, you can still try to beat me. I’ve seen every episode, and I know what it takes to win. You’ve seen the show, haven’t you?”

Dean sighed. “We didn’t think to turn on a TV.”

“Shame.”

Castiel frowned, looking angry and disappointed at the same time. “I hope you know we’re going to obliterate you out there.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “It’s a statement of fact.”

Dean had never been more turned on.

“What do we have here? I was promised a heated love triangle. Ready to put on a show?”

There was no doubt that the angel in front of them was not of the same rank as the others they had encountered. This one had golden wings. Actual golden fucking wings. As gold as his hair. He wore an elegant suit, with a tie covered in yellow smiley faces. The archangel pulled a lollipop out of his mouth, and smiled.

“So, who wants some wings?”


	13. Challenges and Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've abandoned this work for so long, but I always knew I'd return to it. Life has been so difficult for me. I've struggled with my mental health a lot, but I'm working on myself and getting treatment. So I will keep updating this. It's a very loved story for me, and I want to see it to the end. I hope you guys enjoy it, because it means a lot to me.

Despite knowing how rude it was to stare, Castiel hadn’t been able turn his gaze away from the archangel’s golden wings.

Their shape was exquisite. Every feather looked unbelievably soft and unique, but they still blended together perfectly. Their bright color was inviting, as well as intimidating. Castiel had the sudden urge to reach out and run his fingertips through them, but he feared he would wreck their pristine condition.

Beside him, Dean nudged him. When Castiel turned, Dean had his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Castiel swallowed, looking back at the wings before he looked at the face wearing them.

The archangel was nothing short of beautiful, and his wings were clearly fitting. Every feature on the man was articulate, and Castiel was awe-struck. It wasn’t only his physical form that had Castiel on a trance, but the energy surrounding him. Castiel could sense the magnitude of his power—his grace—just from being in the same room as him.

“It’s alright, you can gawk all you want,” the archangel said. Gabriel, that was his name. “I’m sort of a big deal.” He made licking a lollipop look sophisticated.

“We’re ready to do this,” Dean said, stepping forward.

“Not so fast,” Gabriel said, popping the lollipop back in his mouth and speaking around it “Let’s get to know each other first, shall we? Why don’t you have a seat?”

Castiel moved when Dean tugged his hand, and suddenly they were both on one couch while Meg took up the entire space of the smaller loveseat. Gabriel remained standing, his head tilted slightly as he took each of them in.

“Meg Masters, I know you’ve had a long journey,” Gabriel said, turning his curious gaze on her. “You’ve lost your little sister, the only family you loved. You’re angry and you want revenge from the angel that murdered your sister. You want to feel strong again.”

Meg gaped at him. “How the hell are you doing this? Are you a mind-reader?”

Gabriel chuckled, a methodical sound. “I know everyone. That’s just how it is. That’s how it’s always been. Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

Meg lifted her hands up in surrender. “I’m good.”

Gabriel looked at Dean next. He stuck his lollipop out of his mouth, watching him intently. Then he placed the lollipop back in. “Dean-o.” He laughed to himself, then looked at Meg again. “Nice nickname.”

Meg laughed. Dean didn’t.

“Dean, you’ve got quite a hit list out for you. I don’t envy you. That can’t be easy. But at least you have the help of my rebellious big brother. That must be a relief.”

“So you understand I must win today, don’t you?” Dean said, not at all impressed by the archangel.

Gabriel hummed, pacing the room a little. “I’m not sure where you got the impression that my highly respected game show is rigged, Dean-o.” Dean frowned. “I don’t like that kind of gossip going around.”

“We made a deal with Lucifer,” Dean said, but Gabriel raised a hand to stop him.

“I know very well the deal you made with my brother,” Gabriel said, narrowing his eyes on Dean. “Nothing goes unnoticed by yours truly.”

“Great,” Dean deadpanned. Castiel had seen that dead look in his eyes before. Dean was this close to losing his patience. “So, you understand that, for the sake of saving what’s left of humanity, I have to win this thing, right?”

“You humans have a way of making ultra-complicated matters sound fairly simple,” Gabriel said, grinning. He waved his lollipop at Dean. “I kinda like you.”

“I’m flattered,” Dean said through clenched teeth.

“You see, that’s just not reality,” Gabriel said. “I am in charge of this game show. I do have the power to grant you enough grace to defeat my brother Michael. And trust me, that is one of my top goals for the moment, right next to winning a Guinness World Record for the longest-running game show on television. Jeopardy currently has me beat on that one with 6,829 episodes.” Gabriel grinned smugly at them. “I currently have six episodes under my belt. But I’m a patient guy. Very patient. And with that patience, I plan to wait until one of my winners takes down Michael from his heavenly throne.”

“Or,” Dean said, just as smugly as Gabriel appeared. He sat up on the couch. “You could let me win, let me take care of Michael, and concentrate on your little game show for all I care.”

Gabriel sighed. “You must be very doubtful of your practical skills, Dean-o. That’s upsetting.”

“That’s not the point, asshole,” Dean said, and Castiel held Dean back because he looked just about ready to fight the archangel right then and there. “I’m the man you want. I’m the one that can take down Michael. If you had any common sense, you’d let me take care of him. Don’t you care about humanity at all? Isn’t that why you’re doing this?”

“You presume to know everything about me,” Gabriel said, sounding amused.

“It’s not that complicated.” Dean shrugged.

Gabriel smiled. “When Michael took over, gathered an army so powerful and so impressive that he left no room for an opponent to ever defeat him, I fled. I considered my possibilities. My garrison was significantly smaller. I knew we could not take him down, not without causing irreparable damage to the planet. Trust me when I say that two archangels fighting would make this apocalypse seem like a wet dream in comparison. So I allowed myself this game show, partly for my entertainment, and partly because I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fond of you beautiful, smartass little humans.”

Gabriel took out the stick from his lollipop, which was all that was left. He made the stick disappear, and a new one, brand new, reappear in his hand. He removed the wrapper without any tricks, and put it in his mouth. “However, with all game shows there are rules. And this one has a limit of three contestants per game. And of course, only one winner. I cannot grant more. It is not in my power. I am risking my life and the lives of my soldiers every day. But all you ask is, why not let you win? Well, why bend the rules for you, when you are no different than anyone else? You, Dean Winchester, are nothing special. You are just a man who killed an angel. You have potential, but so does Meg, and so does Castiel.”

Gabriel flicked his gaze to Castiel, a new glow in his eyes. “Castiel Novak. A broken, wingless man. Your biggest desire is peace, in the world and in your heart. There’s too much damage to live in peace anymore. Isn’t that right, Castiel?”

Castiel held Gabriel’s gaze, transfixed in the moment. “Yes.”

“You want to erase the past and look only for the future. You want to find your sister, safe and sound.”

“Is—is she alive?” Castiel asked, unsure if that was something Gabriel would know.

“I couldn’t tell you,” Gabriel said. “But I can assure you that your mother remains alive. And she is searching for you.”

“My mother?” Castiel hadn’t spared his mother a single thought. Because for the longest time, thoughts of his mother were only filled with resentment.

“Maybe you’ll see her again,” Gabriel said, “if it’s not too late.”

Castiel wasn’t sure if that’s something he would want, but he kept that to himself.

“I hate to break up this fascinating conversation,” Meg said, “but I’d like to know when the game is set to start.”

“We’ll start filming in a couple of hours,” Gabriel said, suddenly business-like. “I like to have a live feed for all time zones in the world. Seeing as my show is the only show airing on TV at the moment, it’ll be the only thing available for anyone to watch.” Gabriel shook his head. “Michael decided what he would allow humans to live with. Electricity was his priority, and he’s kept that running despite his sloppy kills. But he refused to maintain any phone connections, internet, or television. He believes that those are the reasons why humanity went downhill. As if Jesus wasn’t nailed on the cross before anyone could Snapchat it.”

Castiel had a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue, but Gabriel was gone from the room before he could process any of what he’d said.

Meg rose from the couch. “Hate to say I told you so, sweetums, but I told you so.”

Dean threw his head back on the couch and rubbed his hands on his face. “This is gonna be a nightmare. I can already tell.”

Castiel wrapped an arm around Dean and pulled him close. “We can do this, Dean. Just believe in yourself as much as I believe in you.”

Dean glanced up at him. “Don’t leave my side. I can’t do this without you.”

“You won’t have to.”

 

***

 

There was loud, upbeat music as they walked out.

It was a wide stage, facing a cheering audience. The floor was black, full of white shiny dots that made it look like stars. Dean was instantly blinded by the bright lights on the ceiling. Dean walked between Meg and Castiel, and they were all made to stand behind large colorful podiums that had a step of elevation. In front of them was a large neon sign with bolded letters: _So You Want to be An Angel? (The Gabriel Show)_

The cheering audience went wild, and they started chanting _“Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel,”_ with a fierce passion.

Dean squinted at the audience and recognized some of them from the Best Buy parking lot.

A deep voice announced the show’s host, Gabriel, and then he ran out to the stage, holding a stack of cards in one hand and a microphone in the other. He looked like any ordinary game show host, except as soon as he faced the audience, his wings took him flying off the ground. He flew in front of the audience, giving a few high-fives, and stopping for a few pictures before he flew all the way to a red velvet chair in front of the podiums. There, he sat like a king on his throne, chin lifted and placid smile.

“Hello, everybody, and welcome once again to your favorite game show on earth, _So You Want to be An Angel?_ ” The audience went ballistic, and most of their cheers sounded genuine. “It is a pleasure having you back for another exciting competition between three impressive contestants. I have an extra treat for all of you today. I know that since there’s been a significant decrease in daily entertainment, some of you haven’t had your fills of the dramatics. So, today we have a love triangle, possibly as remarkable as the beloved vampire/werewolf one.”

There were lots of “oohh’s” and “aahh’s” from the audience as Dean shifted uncomfortably behind his podium. Of course, Gabriel would milk this cow as long as he possibly could.

Gabriel smiled and nodded. “Yes, I know this is a first on our show, therefore, very exciting. So I’d like to start by introducing today’s contestants.” At the blink of an eye, Gabriel appeared in front of them, flying above them as he held up the stack of cards in front of him. “I’d like to start on my left here with Castiel.” He flew closer to him, leaning his elbow slightly on the podium. Castiel blinked, his eyes on Gabriel’s wings, almost as though he couldn’t believe their existence. Dean couldn’t understand why he was so drawn to them.

“Yes, I’m Castiel.”

Gabriel laughed, a little forcefully. “I have written here that you are the center of this heated love triangle. You are currently married to Dean, but Meg was your first spouse. Now tell me, how do you feel about playing against both your husband, and your ex-wife?”

Castiel opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a while. “…I don’t feel great about it, Gabriel, to be honest.”

“Well, of course you don’t,” Gabriel said, shaking his head in sympathy. “No one should have to pick between his two great loves. This must be a truly difficult situation for you. But between you and me, who do you think you’ll pick?”

Castiel squinted in confusion, looking from Gabriel to Dean. “What do you mean? I don’t need to pick between them…I’m married to Dean.”

“Oh sure, sure,” Gabriel said, and then he turned to the audience, covering his mouth to hide his laughter. Then, Gabriel turned back to Castiel and stage whispered, “Don’t worry. We’re all just going to pretend you’re not dying to get back with Meg. That love confession behind the scenes will stay between us.”

There was a succession of scandalized gasps from the audience. Dean rolled his eyes. He wondered how many tricks Gabriel had up his sleeve to entice the audience with his supposed love triangle.

“I’d like to keep my private life separate from the show,” Castiel said, suddenly. “Thank you, Gabriel.”

“But of course,” Gabriel said. Then he flew to Dean’s podium, wings moving elegantly behind him. “Dean, you’ve been married to Castiel for two years.”

Dean heaved a sigh. “That’s right.”

“What do you think will happen to your marriage now that Meg has entered the picture again?” Gabriel waited eagerly for Dean’s answer, and so did the audience.

Dean wanted nothing more than to punch the lights out of Gabriel, but he played along. “Well, Gabriel, I think that I’m going to have to duel Meg after the show, and whoever wins the duel will get to keep Castiel. So, winning this show would put me at a great advantage, don’t y’all think?” Dean addressed the audience, throwing out a bit of his Texan accent.

The audience cheered in obvious agreement. Dean had to keep this up for the next hour, and he would get to go home with wings.

“Not so fast, Dean-o,” Meg said, and Gabriel flew to her podium. “I know what you’re doing. You think this audience is naïve enough to fall for your pretty boy charms. Well, I think all of you should know that Dean knew Castiel’s true feelings for me the four years they were together, and still he forced Castiel to marry him.”

Another collective gasp from the audience.

Two could play at this game.

“Castiel would have never married me if he didn’t love me too,” Dean said, speaking directly to the audience. “Sure, he may have loved you Meg, but he felt the same for me. This is why a duel is the only way to get one of us out of the picture.”

“Are we going to concentrate on this petty drama, or are we going to play the game?” That came from Castiel, which surprised Dean. He looked irritated, Dean could tell by the little curl on his lip. It was endearing.

“I’m going to win for you, baby,” Meg said, winking at Castiel.

Castiel sighed and pretended he didn’t notice.

Thankfully, Gabriel put them all out of their misery by _finally_ starting the show. For their first challenge, Gabriel had them all act out a scene from the Bible. The good thing was that Dean was familiar with the scene. The bad thing was that he got the short end of the stick. Literally. Gabriel had them all pick out a stick from his hand and since Dean got the shortest one, he got to pick his character last.

The scene: Eve, Adam, and the Serpent in the Fall of Humanity.

Meg got the longest stick, so she picked first. “I want to be Adam.”

“I guess I’ll be Eve,” Castiel said, and Dean gaped at him. “Sorry, babe.”

Dean shook his head. “I guess that makes me the Serpent.”

They had five minutes backstage to prepare before their scene. In that time, they had to come up with their lines of dialogue and the other details. Since it wasn’t nearly enough time, they decided to mostly wing it.

“You have to really sell your part, Dean,” Castiel said.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Oh, yeah, no problem. I’ll steal the show. As a _serpent_.”

“You have to really sell the forbidden fruit.”

“How the hell will I do that, Cas?”

Meg cleared her throat. “Are you two ready? Gabriel’s waving us back out there.”

“Crap,” Dean muttered.

Castiel’s hands were on his shoulders. “We’re in this together, remember? It’s you and me against the world.”

Dean took a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay. We can do this. I’m the Serpent, and you’re Eve, and we’re going to steal the show.”

“Good. Come on.”

As they walked out, Dean noticed something was off. The stage had been transformed. The platform where Gabriel’s chair had been standing was now a complex stage that resembled a garden full of cardboard trees, with the exception of one very realistic-looking tree that had some exotic fruit in it.

Gabriel motioned for them to take their places, and then addressed the crowd. “Our contestants will now do their very own take of a most memorable story. The story of the first sin. This is the story that started it all.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows at Dean. “You start,” he mouthed.

Right. Dean cleared his throat. “Hey, there, Eve. You want some forbidden fruit? It tastes real good.”

Castiel covered his mouth to stop his laughter. Then he seemed to get into character, a stoic look on his face. “We were told not to eat any forbidden fruit. By God. Kind of hard to ignore him. What with the booming voice and all.”

“Yes, good point, Eve. But have you considered that maybe God was lying when he said that? I mean, I ate from that fruit, and I’m fine. Look at me, I’m a jolly snake.” Dean wiggled his body as best as he could, and he got a few laughs from the audience.

“You _are_ a jolly snake, indeed,” Castiel said. “I guess there’s no harm in trying something new. I’ll eat some of the forbidden fruit.” Castiel plucked the purple fruit from the tree and actually bit into it. Although Dean had been expecting cardboard, the fruit was very real, and Castiel ate it.

“Hmm, this is delicious.” Castiel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m going to get Adam to eat it, too.”

“Good idea!” Dean cheered. “Go now, don’t procrastinate!”

Castiel found Meg a few steps away. “Adam, you must eat from this fruit. It’s quite tasty.”

Meg narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “Is that the forbidden fruit God told us not to eat?”

“Yes, but hear me out. A very jolly snake told me it was safe to eat it, so of course I did.”

“That makes perfect sense. I’ll try it too.” Meg grabbed Castiel’s wrist and bit from the fruit straight from Castiel’s hand, causing gasps from the audience.

Dean was still standing on his own when he heard the booming voice condemning Adam and Eve to a miserable life of mortality after eating the fruit. And the scene was done. The audience cheered. And they all took their places back behind their podiums.

Gabriel reappeared, chatting up the audience. There were some embarrassing attempts at stand-up comedy that were cringy at best. When Gabriel returned to them, he praised their work, but reminded them that the audience would decide the winner, so to please _them_ , not him. Dean had already guessed that much.

“For our next challenge, you will each have fifteen minutes too cook something up for the audience. There are 250 people in our audience today, all very hungry. We might need a loaves and fish miracle, wouldn’t you say?” Gabriel laughed a hearty laugh and the audience echoed it.

Dean froze. He couldn’t process the idea of cooking for such a large crowd in such a short amount of time. He noticed Castiel and Meg requesting specific ingredients and moving over to the staged kitchen areas on the stage, but he couldn’t do anything. Was the hell was wrong with him?

From behind a stove, Castiel glanced at him with wide eyes. Castiel knew something was wrong. He seemed to be debating whether to stop what he was doing and rushing over to Dean. Dean shook his head. Someone had to get this done.

Finally. Finally, Dean reacted. He bolted to his own kitchen area and requested actual loaves of bread, and lots of cheese. If Dean had been known to cook something well, it was his grilled cheese. Once the bread and cheese appeared on his very own kitchen counter, he got to work.

Ten minutes in, Dean had already made fifty grilled cheese sandwiches. He glanced to his right and found Castiel was serving jambalaya onto large containers. It smelled delicious. To his left, Meg was chopping up more lettuce for a giant salad. Dean sighed, hoping his grilled cheese was enough to beat Meg’s salad, at least.

When Gabriel flew down and announced their fifteen minutes were up, the rest of Dean’s ingredients disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared.

“Time’s up!” Gabriel announced, moving closer to Meg. “What do we have here?”

Meg was sweating and smiling eagerly. “I made a giant Caesar salad that I’m sure the audience will love.”

“Okay, let’s give them a try.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and suddenly, everyone in the audience had bowls of salads. Dean watched anxiously as the audience hummed in enjoyment. Meg looked so smug. “Not a bad reception to your salad Meg. But it looks like you only made enough to feed 200 people. 50 people will starve now because of you. Shame, shame.”

“Crap,” Meg muttered.

Gabriel walked over to Dean and leaned forward on his counter. “Tell me, Dean, what did you prepare for us today?”

“I made grilled cheese,” Dean said, nervously.

“Smells good,” Gabriel said. “Not that I would know. Angels don’t eat food.”

“Really?” Dean asked. That was new information.

“We can, but it’s not necessary. We don’t sleep either. You should know this by now. Aren’t you here to be one of us?”

Dean laughed uncomfortable. “That’s right.”

“Alright, let’s give the audience your grilled cheese sandwiches.” Gabriel snapped his fingers. Then he winced. “Oh, that’s not good. It looks like you only got 78 sandwiches made. You left a good amount of people starving. You did way worse than Meg.” The audience looked to be enjoying Dean’s food, but Dean had probably lost the vote of the other 178 people he left hungry.

“What do we have here, Castiel?” Gabriel asked.

Castiel cleared his throat. “I made jambalaya. And it should be more than enough to feed everyone in the audience.”

Gabriel nodded. “It does look like a lot. Let’s have a look.” He snapped his fingers, and everyone in the audience suddenly had a plate of jambalaya in front of them. “It looks like you were right, Castiel. All 250 people in the audience got a plate. And by the sounds of it, you cooked up a good meal. Good for you.”

Castiel beamed, glancing at Dean enthusiastically. Dean frowned in return. This wasn’t good for them. Dean was falling behind. Why was Castiel so happy?

It was time for their last challenge.

Gabriel snapped his fingers—and if he did that one more time, Dean would snap his neck—and Dean found himself in a large white empty room. He had no idea what was happening, but he reacted pretty quickly when he saw someone dressed in a ridiculous devil outfit. Whoever it was, they were dressed in red from head to toe, their face was hidden from view, and a colorful tail and horns completed the ensemble.

“Seriously? What is this?” Dean wondered.

A hidden voice said, “Run.”

The red devil pulled out a pitchfork from behind and headed in Dean’s direction. Dean had no choice but to run from it.

Dean ran the long length of the room until he found himself cornered. The red devil raised the pitchfork, but just before it got to him, Dean crouched down. Then he rolled on the ground and ran in the other direction. The process was repeated a few times, and Dean broke into a sweat. This was not fun. He was not a good runner, and his fighting skills weren’t perfect, even with the angel death under his belt.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes when the red devil finally stabbed Dean with the plastic pitchfork and he fell to the ground, breathless and exhausted.

“Okay, okay, I give up,” Dean said.

And that was how Dean gave up saving the world. That easily. How the hell could this prove Dean was worthy of being an angel anyway? None of the challenges had made sense. What exactly was Gabriel looking for? Someone who could act and cook and run?

A door in the room opened, and Dean walked out of it, with his head bowed and all the shame he could muster. This was it. He’d lost. He was sure of it. He and Castiel would just have to find another way to save humanity.

When he got back to his podium, he saw Meg, sweatier than when she’d prepared her giant salad. She was still trying to catch her breath. Dean looked around the studio for Castiel, but he couldn’t find him. Panic set in, and he yelled for Gabriel.

Gabriel appeared in front of his podium, another lollipop in his mouth. “You called?”

“Yeah, where the hell is my husband?” Dean demanded.

“Where do you think?”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Cas is still in there?”

“He’s a fast runner.”

“What does this mean?” Dean’s head was spinning. He’d been so sure Meg would win. If Castiel won, then that meant…

No. This wasn’t happening.

“It’s all up to the audience, but chances are looking good for him.”

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. No. This can’t happen. Cas won’t become an angel. We’re not doing this anymore. Cas and I are out of the competition.”

Gabriel looked surprised. “You are more than welcome to withdraw from the competition, but you can’t make the choice for another contestant, regardless of your relationship to them.”

“But he can’t win.”

"Don’t be such a sore loser, Dean. It’s tacky.”

Dean swallowed. Holy shit. What were they going to do?

The moment Castiel got out of his room and took his place behind the podium, looking only a bit tired, Dean lost his cool. He tried to go to his side, but Gabriel snapped his fingers—those damned fingers—and Dean was unable to move from his spot.

“It’s time we crown our winner for the day,” Gabriel announced to everyone. “The members of our lovely audience will press the option for the winner with the remote under their seats. The results will show on the screen once they’re in. This is my favorite part, honestly. I love the suspense.”

Dean felt bile coming up. He couldn’t look at Castiel.

The moment the screen showed the obvious results, and Castiel’s face flashed on the screen, Dean let it all out. Vomit spilled everywhere around him, and it just kept coming and coming. Dean fell to his knees and his head continued spinning. Castiel couldn’t do this. It couldn’t all fall on him. Castiel couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“Dean,” Castiel said, wrapping his arms around him. “Dean, are you alright? Hey, look at me. Can you hear me?” Castiel lifted Dean head and held it carefully in his hands. “Baby, I know you’re afraid for me, but I can do this. I _will_ do this. We’re in this together, remember?”

“No, Cas, no you can’t. It’s too much. You can’t.”

“I will.” Castiel placed a kiss to Dean’s forehead. “I have to.”

“No,” Dean gasped.

Castiel pulled Dean to his feet, and made sure he was steady, before he walked to the center of the stage, where Gabriel was waiting for him.

“I’m ready,” Castiel said in a firm voice.

Dean hoped against all hope that he was just dreaming. He wanted this to be nothing but a dream. This wasn’t at all the outcome they had expected. Dean had been willing to give up his own life to the rest of the world, but he’d never once considered putting Castiel’s soul on the line. This was the man he’d loved for so long. He was going to give up his human life.

“I’m glad it was you who won, Castiel,” Gabriel said, stepping forward. “I don’t usually have favorites, but I sensed something special in you the moment we met.”

“Thanks?” Castiel said.

Gabriel raised two fingers on each hand. “This won’t hurt much.” Then he placed them on Castiel’s temples. Nothing happened.

A few moments passed before Castiel yelled out in pain.

Dean widened his eyes, and again tried to run to him, but he was stuck in his place.

Castiel stopped yelling, but then something even worse happened. His blue eyes opened, and a light shone out of them. A bright white light. He looked like a specter. Dean didn’t want to blink for fear that he’d miss something.

Then Castiel closed his eyes, let out a small breath, and opened them again.

Gabriel grinned and removed his hands. “Can you feel them?”

“Yes,” Castiel said.

Next thing he knew, Castiel sprouted enormous white wings from his back.


	14. Shopping and Traveling

When Castiel opened his eyes, he saw a multitude of colors. In the room, he could see every small detail down to the last bit of dust in the air. He could hear every breath inhale and exhale, every brush of fabric against the seats. His senses were heightened, and he’d never felt so alive.

There was nothing Castiel couldn’t see, hear, smell, or taste, and he yearned to touch everything. The extra weight on his back was comforting. His wings were like two added limbs, somehow necessary to the essence of his body as a whole.

The cameras were no longer on him, but Gabriel’s gaze was scrutinizing. The archangel was even more obviously perfect now that Castiel was an angel. There was nothing human about Gabriel, not even his eyes, which held more colors than he thought existed.

“How’re you holding up, kid?” Gabriel asked. There wasn’t a hint of performance in his question. Gabriel wasn’t acting anymore.

Castiel moved his wings, batting them just slightly. Then he stretched them out as he rolled his shoulders. “I’ve never felt better. I feel…invincible.”

Gabriel laughed. “That can be deceiving. None of us are invincible. Some of us are harder to kill than others, but we’re all mortals in the end.”

“Cas?”

Dean’s voice filled Castiel with a familiar warmth. Hesitantly, Dean stepped closer to Castiel, as though fearing Castiel would fly off with any sudden movement.

“Dean,” Castiel breathed, and he felt his wings move.

Dean’s gaze rose above Castiel’s head, and his eyes widened as Castiel’s wings kept moving. “This is fucking nuts.”

Castiel held his wings in place, making sure they didn’t move. “I’m sorry. I haven’t learned to control them yet.” With another roll of his shoulders, Castiel retrieved his wings, making them disappear.

“How the hell did you do that?” Dean asked, taking two steps forward.

Castiel furrowed his brow. “I can’t explain it. They’re just…a part of me.”

Gabriel clapped Castiel’s shoulder. “You’ll get used to all of this. Just take it easy at first. Don’t fly too fast. There’s a lot of us out there. Try to follow the current, and you’ll be alright. As for your dear old husband, I’d suggest you keep him hidden.” Gabriel glanced at Dean. “After tonight’s show, chances are all angels are on the lookout for my studio to get to you.”

“We’ll be careful,” Castiel promised. “Thank you for everything, Gabriel.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, smirked, and then he was gone.

“How…how do you feel?” Dean asked, closing the distance between them. A shaky hand ran up to cup Castiel’s cheek, leaving a soft caress.

Castiel closed his eyes, the touch nearly burning his skin with anticipation. With his senses heightened, Dean’s touch was doing incredible things to him. “I feel alive.” When he opened his eyes, Dean was still staring at him, like he was trying to relearn him.

“Look at you, angel,” Meg said. She stood in front of them, arms crossed over her chest. “Well played, both of you. I can’t say I’m not disappointed. But if it wasn’t me, I’m glad it was you, Castiel. You make a stunning angel.”

“What will you do now?” Castiel asked.

Meg shrugged. “I’ll just wing it. It’s what I do best. And hey, try not to fuck up your plan to end all this. You’re my last hope.”

“No pressure,” Dean said.

“We won’t let you down,” Castiel said, shining with a new confidence.

Meg gave them a mock salute before she turned around and went the other way. Castiel wished the best for her.

“Wanna get out of here?” Dean asked.

Castiel turned to him, smiled. “Where should we go first?”

“We have to catch up with a lot of people,” Dean said. “But I think we can fit in some time to go shopping for some supplies first.”

“Supplies?”

Dean grinned. “Come on, I’ll drive.”

It was strange climbing into the Impala. The small space felt confined. If Castiel were to spread out his wings, they wouldn’t fit inside. That alone made him hate the cramped space. But Dean wasn’t ready to give up his car just yet, so Castiel tagged along for the ride.

Dean pulled up in front of a mall. It was completely empty and intact. Castiel wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“What type of supplies do we need, Dean?”

“You’ll see.”

Castiel trailed behind Dean after he broke the front door to get inside. They walked directly to Burlington Coat Factory. Not the first place Castiel would have thought of, but he kept from asking questions. There was a bright look in Dean’s eyes that Castiel had missed seeing. He didn’t want to ruin the moment.

After walking down a few aisles, Dean pulled out a few items. “Here, try these on.” He tossed them into Castiel’s arms and kept walking. “Now that you’re an angel, you gotta look the part.”

“Is this really necessary?” He tried, he really did.

“Of course it’s necessary.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Well, what will you be wearing?”

“A brand new leather jacket.” Dean pulled the jacket from the rack, his giddy smile illuminating his features.

Castiel smiled. “Alright. Let’s try this on so we can get out of here.”

They both shed their clothes in front of each other and changed into new outfits. Castiel wore a pair of dark jeans, a black Henley, and a brown coat that was a bit too long. The coat felt bulky at first, but it gave him an air of authority that he liked. Dean had good taste in clothes.

For himself, Dean chose a new pair of jeans, another flannel, and his brand-new leather jacket. He also grabbed each of them new shoes. They looked decent, to say the least.

“This was a good distraction,” Castiel admitted, heading out of the store.

“Look what else I found.” Dean held up a large, shiny sword.

Castiel stopped dead on his track. “Where did you get this?”

Dean offered him the sword, and Castiel took it, holding it carefully. It was light in his hands, but it was obviously sharp.

“I found it in a store, and I figured you could use a weapon.” Dean cleared his throat. “You’ll need it eventually, right?”

Right. Killing Michael. That would solve everything. That was Castiel’s duty now. It all fell on his hands.

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.” Dean looked away. “Are you sure this is what you want? I mean, we’d never planned for this. I was supposed to be an angel and kill Michael. You weren’t supposed to take over. I wish…I should have stopped it from happening.”

Castiel lowered his sword with one hand and used the other to touch Dean’s cheek. The feeling, again, was unlike anything else he’d ever felt in his life. “Dean, I never wanted you to take on this role. I’m relieved that it was me. I want to do this. I’m going to end this. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Ask for something less impossible,” Dean said, leaning into the touch.

“We should head out.” Castiel dropped his hand, despite wanting nothing more than to stay in the moment. “We need to find Anna.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, absolutely. We’ll find her.”

“I hope so.”

 

*******

 

They were back in the Impala. Dean had driven them to a gas station, where the only food they could find was trail mix and Twinkies. Not the healthiest choice, but at least they wouldn’t starve yet.

They were still in the parking lot. Castiel had been working on tracking down Anna, but to no success so far. It was as though she was off the map. Not dead, Castiel was sure of that. But she was definitely hiding. That would make it harder to find her. So, they decided to search for Castiel’s mother instead.

It wasn’t an easy decision for Castiel to make, but Dean knew that that was what he needed to do. Castiel had unfinished business with his parents. His dad was gone, but his mom was still around. It was better than nothing.

“I got her,” Castiel said.

“Where is she?”

“Tianjin,” Castiel said. “China.”

Dean swallowed. “We’re flying to China?”

Castiel looked at him. “I can go alone.”

“No. I promised you we’d do this together. I can do this.”

“I’ve never flown before,” Castiel said, with less confidence than he’d showed before.

Despite that, Dean was sure he wanted to do this. “Let’s just go now.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

Castiel nodded, reaching forward to embrace Dean in his arms. “Hold tight.”

           

 

Dean wasn’t proud of himself when he screamed bloody murder as soon as they were on the air. But could you blame him? He was thousands of feet above the ground, holding for his dear life onto Castiel, as his wings transported them to the other side of the world. It wasn’t the best situation he’d ever been in.

Castiel was laughing into Dean’s ear. The softness of his laughter was slightly comforting, but Dean held on even tighter.

“I won’t let you go, Dean,” Castiel said. “I’ve got you.”

“Easy for you to say,” Dean said, swallowing down his tremors. He buried his face in Castiel’s neck. “You’re the one with the wings.”

“We’re almost there.”

“About time. It’s been hours.”

“It’s been six minutes.”

Dean scoffed. “Didn’t feel like minutes.”

“I think I’m fast,” Castiel said, the smugness in his voice clear.

“Good for you, man. Don’t get distracted, okay? Just fly and hold me.”

Castiel laughed again. “I love you.”

“If you loved me you would fly faster.”

“We’re flying to China in under ten minutes,” Castiel said. “Wouldn’t you say that’s fast?”

“Shut up.”

What felt like hours later, Castiel finally announced they were there. Once Dean set his feet on the ground, his knobby knees nearly let him collapse, but Castiel lifted him up. Dean waited until he felt solid enough to stand on his own, and then Castiel let him go.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Dean said.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall,” Castiel said.

“How do you know?”

“Because this is my mother’s house.”

“Your mom has a house in China?”

“It was always her retirement dream.”

Dean snorted. “Rich people.”

Castiel grunted in agreement.

There were halls everywhere. The house was enormous. But eventually, Dean did find the bathroom. He didn’t get sick, but he splashed cold water on his face until he calmed down from the most terrifying trip of his life. When he stepped out, he followed the same path that he’d taken, but Castiel wasn’t there anymore.

There was music coming from one of the rooms, and Dean followed it. The closer he got, the clearer the music sounded. It was a Fleetwood Mac song. Dean started humming along to _The Chain_.

When he rounded another corner, he found Castiel standing outside a bedroom. His wings were exposed, but they weren’t expanded. Dean approached him slowly, still thrown off by the sight. Castiel looked beautiful with his wings, but it was still so new to Dean. It would take some time to get used to this.

In the spur of the moment, Dean reached out to touch a single white feather. Immediately, Castiel retrieved his wings, and they were gone from sight.

Castiel turned around, eyes wide when he saw Dean standing there. “You startled me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know they were that sensitive. I shouldn’t have touched them.”

“It’s alright. Just took me by surprise.”

“Where’s your mom?”

“In there,” Castiel said. “Doing yoga.”

“Yoga, huh?”

Dean peeked inside the room and found a woman on a mat in the middle of the room. She was holding a pose Dean didn’t know the name for, but one that looked extremely uncomfortable. The music was blasting from this room. Dean faced Castiel again. “Are you gonna talk to her?”

“I don’t know.”

“I thought that was the plan.”

“We didn’t have a plan.”

“I’m sure you have things to say to her.”

Castiel leaned his head against the wall. “I just needed to see her again. Just once.”

“I’m sure she’d like to see you too.”

“Not like this.”

Dean bumped his shoulder against Castiel’s. “You can do this.”

Castiel closed his eyes. Dean found his hand and linked their fingers together. “I can do this.”

Dean brought their hands up and kissed the back of Castiel’s hand.

Castiel opened his eyes. “I’m going in.”

Dean smiled. “I’ll be right here.”

With a deep breath, Castiel walked in the room, just as _Landslide_ started playing.


	15. Flame V

The thrill of killing an angel hadn’t faded yet. Two days had passed, but it was all Anna could think of.

She had killed an angel. She had set him on fire. Flames burned bright and mighty. It was almost hypnotic. Addictive. Anna wanted more.

More death.

More flames.

More revenge.

That was her reasoning behind everything, wasn’t it?

Revenge.

For the humans the angels had killed without a second thought. For her brother, Castiel.

Anna hadn’t given her family much thought. Her father had been aggressive most of the time. Violent. Mostly with Castiel. With Anna, he was simply distant. Same as her mother. She only had eyes for Castiel. All of the anger and love her parents had to offer were for Castiel.

Anna only missed Castiel. Her brother had wanted to call her, before everything dissolved into chaos. Anna had been too busy for him. If she could only know whether he was alive or not. But he was miles away from her, and she couldn’t deviate from her path. She had one reason for living now.

The angels had to be killed. And she was going to kill them.

Raejean was pretending to sleep on the patch of grass beside her. It was cute, the way she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. It almost looked real.

Anna was too jittery to sleep.

She was itching to repeat the events from two days ago. Over and over.

Raejean didn’t think it was a good idea to kill again, not until they were sure no one was on their tail.

Anna couldn’t care less who came after them. She felt so powerful; she could kill anything that had a pulse.

“Go to sleep,” Raejean said, her eyes still closed.

“I want to do it again,” Anna said.

“No.”

“Why not? It’s been two days. No one is after us.”

“I don’t care. We have to wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“Wait for me to give the okay.”

Anna groaned. “You’re so frustrating.”

“I’m a demon. Deal with it.”

“Can we do it again tomorrow?”

Raejean paused. And then, “Yes.”

Anna grinned up at the starry sky. “Good.”

“Will you sleep now?”

“I want to kill more than one this time.”

“You’re more bloodthirsty than me,” Raejean said. “And, as I stated before, I’m a demon.”

“I have absolutely nothing to lose, Rae. This is my calling. I was meant to do this.”

“No one is made to kill. Not even demons. We exist to hurt, but not to kill.”

“I’m human. We kill. We’re cold-blooded.”

Raejean opened her eyes. “You’re not. Stop saying that.”

“I think they killed my brother.”

Raejean leaned up on her elbows. “You have a brother?”

“Castiel.” Anna mirrored her position. “He’s older than me. Or was.”

“He might still be alive.”

Anna shook her head. “These past few months have been rough on him. He refused to leave his house. Who knows if his house is still up? For all I know, it already collapsed with him in it. Things with his husband weren’t going great either. Dean might have just left him there alone.”

“You have a very grim view of the world, you know that?”

Anna smiled. “He used to say that, too.”

“Where does your brother live?”

“Texas,” Anna said. “Denton, Texas. It’s a college town. Very peaceful. I always hated it.”

Raejean snorted. “Sounds like you.”

“Rae, I don’t think I’ll ever see my brother again. Or my mother, for that matter. You’re all I have in this world.”

“Let’s not have a moment.”

“I just wanted you to know.”

“You humans are too much for me sometimes.”

Anna glanced at Raejean, held her gaze. “Maybe we’re not all as cold-blooded as I thought.”

“You still want to kill angels tomorrow?”

“Oh yeah. I’m not changing my mind about that.”

“Then you better get some rest tonight.” Raejean leaned back down, draped an arm over her eyes. “And let me rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Anna took a deep breath, lying back down.

She didn’t think of her brother, or her mother.

She thought of flames.


	16. Feathers and Wings

“Mom?”

A long time had passed since Castiel had seen his mother, but she didn’t look a day older. Eleanor Novak was just as youthful as always. Her long black hair had a perfect shine, and her light skin was glowing. And just as expected, she looked completely at ease with herself, doing yoga in the middle of an apocalypse.

At the sight of him, Castiel’s mother rose elegantly to her feet, and grinned. “Castiel, what a lovely surprise.”

Castiel stepped closer, but still left a five-foot distance between them. “Are you alright?” Judging by her appearance, the question was redundant, but he still had to ask.

“I’m perfectly alright, my dear boy.” She closed the distance between them and cupped his cheek. “You’re looking mighty fine yourself.”

“You’re not going to ask why I’m here?”

She swallowed and took a step back. “After all I’ve seen this past week, I don’t think I can be surprised by much. I _am_ glad to see you.”

“Have you heard from Anna?” Castiel asked. “Before the phones stopped working?”

“No.” There was sadness in her voice. “I know nothing of your sister. Not for months.”

“Months?”

“It’s difficult to get in contact with her. I’m sure you’re aware of this.”

Castiel nodded. “Mom, I need to tell you something.”

“Anything you want, dear.” She walked over to the small stereo and cut the music. “I’ll make tea.”

“I’m here with Dean,” Castiel said.

“Well, where is that handsome husband of yours?”

Clearing his throat, Dean walked in the room. “Not that I was eavesdropping or anything, but I heard my name.”

“There he is,” Castiel’s mother said, heading over to Dean and embracing him. “My beautiful son-in-law, look at you.”

“Look at me,” Dean laughed awkwardly.

“It’s good to see the both of you here. Castiel used to come here with us on vacation when he was a kid, but then he refused to travel so far as he got older. He just loved Texas, never wanted to leave.”

“Yes, well, it is a long flight,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows at Castiel.

“There are still international flights?”

“Sure.” Dean shrugged.

Castiel wasn’t sure how he would break the news to his mother, but he eventually had to tell her that he was no longer human.

“Very well, let’s go in the kitchen for some tea.” She turned on her heels and exited the room smoothly.

After a beat, Castiel and Dean followed. Once inside the kitchen, they sat at a table as Castiel’s mother prepared the tea. It took a few minutes, all of which she spent talking about the many terrifying killings she’d witnessed from inside her house.

“You haven’t left at all?” Castiel asked.

She poured the tea into three small teacups. “Oh no, I have no business out there. I don’t go out, or let anyone in. And believe me, many have come knocking on my door.” She paused, blinking. “Speaking of, how did you get in here?”

“I have my ways,” Castiel said.

Her brows furrowed. “Perhaps I need to secure the door better.”

“No, I’m sure it’s fine, Mom. You see, that’s what I needed to talk to you about.”

“What, you can break into homes?” She laughed. “Is that it?”

Dean shared a glance with Castiel. “Not quite.”

Castiel’s mother sat across from them at the table and sipped her tea. “Then tell me whatever it is.”

“Mom, I hope you can understand my reasons for what I am about to tell you,” Castiel said, holding his own cup of tea in his hands. The warmth seeping through made him bolder somehow. “I’m different now.”

“How do you mean?” She tilted her head.

Castiel took a long breath before he spoke again. “I’m an angel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I became an angel,” Castiel said.

“I heard you the first time, son.”

“Oh.”

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“Aren’t you going to ask how it happened?” Castiel asked.

Castiel’s mother scoffed. “It was through that absurd game show, I’m assuming. I’ve seen an episode or two.”

Not at all what Castiel had been expecting, but his mother was usually full of surprises. “Mom, I had to do it. Dean and I, we have a plan to save the world. It requires one of us to be an angel. There are no guarantees, but it’s our only shot.”

“You plan to end this? All of this?”

Castiel nodded. “I do.”

Then she turned to Dean. “And you as well?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She pursed her lips. “If you want to know my opinion, I think you both are very foolish boys. And I don’t know what in the world you’re planning on doing, nor do I want to know. Just, promise me you will keep each other alive.”

“We’re planning on it,” Dean said.

“Mom, I figured you would be more affected by the news that your only son is now an angel,” Castiel said.

Smiling, she shook her head. “You said you were different, but I don’t believe that. I still see my son. Nothing has changed for me.”

“No?” Castiel said, right before stretching out his wings for everyone to see. He didn’t miss the simultaneous gasps in the room, or the sudden tension. He wasn’t sure Dean had seen the full extent of his wings, but they were about fifteen feet wide when fully stretched out.

“You really are one of them, aren’t you?” Castiel’s mother said.

“No,” Castiel said. “You were right before. I’m still me. Nothing has changed.”

 

*******

 

They were in Castiel’s childhood bedroom. It was small, in comparison to the rest of the house—and his wings. Dean could not get over the size of those wings. The sight of them left him speechless. Not long after Castiel sprouted them out, Mrs. Novak sent them off to bed. She claimed she went to sleep early to wake up early in order to stay alert in case anything went wrong and the outside world somehow disturbed her peace.

Dean had showered first, and the feeling of the spray of warm water against his shoulders was absolutely remarkable. He put on a silk blue robe that Mrs. Novak left for them, and he had never felt so fancy. After so many days on the road, this was paradise. And yes, he knew this wasn’t permanent, but he would enjoy it for as long as he could.

When Castiel returned to the room, a towel wrapped around his waist, Dean stared long and hard at the area above his shoulders. He couldn’t see the wings, but he knew they were there, and that fact would never not surprise him.

“Quit ogling me,” Castiel said, a light flush on his cheeks.

“Then cover yourself.” Dean tossed Castiel the matching silk robe.

Castiel groaned. “I’m not wearing this.”

“Why not? It’s comfy.”

“I’d rather sleep in the nude.”

“That’ll work, too.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, and then he removed the towel from his waist and used it to dry the rest of his dripping body. “I wasn’t expecting my mom to take the news so lightly. I’m still waiting for her to call me a monster and kick me out of her house.”

“Cas, she would never do that. Also, can we not talk about your mom while you’re naked?”

“Keep it in your pants, I’m grabbing some boxers.” Castiel dug through the drawers in his old bedroom and pulled out a pair of Spider-Man boxers. “I don’t think these will fit me anymore.”

“Tell me again why you didn’t think about bringing our bags when you flew us out to the other side of the world?”

Castiel gave him a look. “I had other things on my mind, Dean.”

“I guess you have to wear the robe, then.” Dean smirked.

Castiel picked up the silk robe from the floor and put it on. “It’s soft.”

“Of course it’s soft. It’s silk.”

“Come here.”

Dean eyed him strangely. “Why? What do you want?”

Castiel laughed. “Come here, Dean.”

Hesitantly, Dean walked up to Castiel and crossed his arms when he reached him. “You got a funny look in your eyes.”

“I want to try something,” Castiel said quietly. Then his hands were on Dean’s face.

“What—”

“Hold still.”

Warmth transferred from Castiel’s hands into Dean. It was a strange sort of warmth. It was comforting. It was tangible safety. Dean felt energized. There was a type of strength inside of him that he’d never felt before. It was power, that’s what it was. And then it was gone.

Castiel removed his hands and opened Dean’s robe to examine his abdomen. “You’re healed.”

“What?” Dean looked down at his ribs, but all of his bruises were gone. It was like nothing had happened. And his busted lip, it was whole again. “How’d you do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure there are plenty of things I can do with my grace now that I couldn’t do before. My grace. That’s an odd sentence.”

“What do you think happened to your soul, Cas?” The question had been nagging Dean for a while, but he couldn’t keep it in any longer. “I wondered about that when I thought it would be me instead of you.”

Castiel sighed, pulling Dean to the bed and sitting down beside him. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t concern me at the moment. This feels right. Being an angel, it feels like the right thing. I’m…Dean, I’m happy this way. Is that wrong?”

Dean threaded his fingers through Castiel’s soft, wet hair. “No, it’s not wrong to be happy. I happen to like this version of you.”

A slow grin spread on Castiel’s lips, and Dean was reminded all over again why he fell in love with him so easily. “Even with my wings?”

“Especially with your wings.”

A tilt of his head. “Really? You like them?”

“Oh yeah,” Dean said. “They’re sorta sensitive, aren’t they?”

“Yes.” Castiel blushed and looked away. “Every touch is heightened, but my wings, they _feel_ everything.”

“Can I kiss you?” Dean asked, eyes switching from Castiel’s eyes to his lips. “I’m not sure what the rules are on kissing angels.”

“I may be an angel, but I’m still me. And this version of me still loves you, Dean.”

Dean swallowed. “Does this version of you still want me too?”

Castiel leaned forward, eyes closed as he pressed his lips against Dean’s in a chaste kiss, a soft caress that sent a thrill all the way to Dean’s toes. “I’ve always wanted you,” he whispered into his lips.

A shiver ran down Dean’s spine, but he pulled closer. With one hand, he moved Castiel down by the neck, bringing their lips together again, harder this time. Castiel cupped Dean’s face again, but this time it was different. There was a possessiveness to his touch, and a sense of desperation as he pressed him closer and closer.

Sighing into him, Dean pulled Castiel onto the bed, straddling his lap. Dean licked Castiel’s lips open and pressed down against him until their bodies were completely aligned. It didn’t take long for Castiel to spin them around, so Dean was underneath him instead. Dean laughed because he loved it when Castiel took charge.

Castiel pulled away only to move his mouth to Dean’s neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there. When Castiel bit him, Dean yelped and wrapped his legs around him. Castiel moved back to kissing Dean’s lips with an intensity that sped up Dean’s heartrate. “I need to go for a second,” Castiel whispered.

“No, don’t go,” Dean said, tightening his hold on him.

Castiel let out a soft chuckle. “Baby, I just need to find some lube.”

“Oh.” Dean breathed heavily. “Right, yeah, okay.”

“I won’t be long.”

Despite his strong hold on him, Castiel disappeared in the blink of an eye. The only thing left behind was the sound of his wings mid-movement. Dean removed his own robe and counted to five in his head before Castiel reappeared on top of him, a crooked smile on his face.

“Did you miss me?” Castiel asked against his lips.

Dean kissed him long and hard, until he could feel Castiel squirm on top of him. “Did you find it?”

Castiel held up a small bottle. “I didn’t go far. Just raided a store nearby.”

“Oh good. My husband is now an angel and a thief.”

Castiel sat up on Dean’s lap and threw off his silk robe. Dean’s wandering hands ran down Castiel’s chest, and then circled around his waist to bring him close again. They kissed until their lips were sore, and even then they continued kissing. With one hand, Castiel grabbed Dean’s cock and gave it a few strokes, making Dean hiss. With his other hand, Castiel’s lubed fingers worked on opening up Dean’s entrance.

Biting his lip, Dean held in as many sounds as he could. The house was big, but maybe not big enough to muffle his screams. Castiel moved a second finger inside Dean, kissing him slowly as he worked.

“Cas,” Dean panted.

“I love you,” Castiel muttered, stroking him again.

Dean reached down to remove Castiel’s hand from him. “No, wait, I want to come with you inside me.”

Castiel looked down into his eyes, and nodded. His fingers were gone the next second. Then he felt the tip of Castiel’s cock near his entrance. “Are you okay, Dean?”

“Yes,” Dean hissed again. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Castiel kissed Dean’s forehead before he entered him, slowly, watching Dean for his reaction.

The pressure was instant, but the pain soon became pleasure. “Move, Cas.”

Castiel let out a long breath before he started moving. When the thrusts picked up in pace, Dean gripped his hands around Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel let out a long moan, and he shut his eyes. “Dean, I’m—”

“Cas.”

“Dean,” Castiel breathed. The next second, a gush of wind announced his wings were present in the room. In fact, they filled the entire room, from one wall to the other.

Dean laughed at the sight because it was near unbelievable. Beautiful, but unbelievable. “Cas, your wings.”

Castiel opened his eyes. “I couldn’t hold them in.”

“Can I touch them?”

“Yes.” Castiel’s voice was rough when he spoke.

Dean reached forward cautiously until the tips of his fingers touched the top of Castiel’s right wing. The small touch made the wing move away, but then it returned. Dean brushed his fingers through the delicate feathers again, and Castiel’s thrusts became erratic. It was an interesting development. Castiel was getting more turned on by the touch of his wings.

Dean did it again, this time running both of his hands through both of the wings’ feathers. Castiel kept them in place, his blue eyes focused on Dean. “Come on, baby,” Dean muttered.

Castiel moved quicker and quicker, and then something happened that sent his wings moving in sync with his thrusts. Dean dropped his hands, gripping them on Castiel’s shoulders instead. When Castiel came, his wings lowered, and then they were gone. Completely gone, and Dean missed them already.

Dean bit on his lip again when Castiel grabbed his cock and stroked him until completion. Castiel pressed soft kisses against his lips as he pulled out. Since they didn’t use a condom, Dean had to get cleaned up right away. When he returned, Castiel was on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“Are you thinking about smoking a cigarette?” Dean asked, getting back in bed.

“No,” Castiel said with a smile. “I was thinking about you. And how I didn’t even break a sweat. Let’s go again.”

Dean laughed, throwing an arm around Castiel’s stomach. “Hey, man, in case you forgot, I’m still human. And I did sweat. A lot.”

Castiel kissed the top of Dean’s head, wrapped his arms around him. “I’m sorry if my wings bother you. I can’t control them yet.”

“You kidding? I had fun with them.”

“Yeah, well, it was new for me.”

“It was new for me too. But that’s not a bad thing.”

Castel smiled again.

Not long after that, they fell asleep.


End file.
